


Sparks Fly

by Jade4813



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: Everybody knows sparks fly whenever Barry Allen and Iris West are together. Their mutual animosity is legendary. But when Iris returns to Central City to investigate recent sightings of a mysterious red streak, she discovers a hero she just can’t resist…and Barry struggles to hide the unrequited feelings he can’t deny. A Westallen AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Iris squinted in the bright sunlight and grabbed some sunglasses out of her center console, slipping them on before shutting off the car. Scooping her purse off the passenger seat, she slid the strap over her shoulder and threw open the driver’s side door. As she stepped out, she scanned the crowd of police and onlookers, hoping to see a familiar face. It had been years since her father had been on the force in Central City – and nearly as long since she’d put this city in her rearview mirror and headed off to see the world. All his old buddies – and her old contacts – had likely moved on or retired by now.

Which was damned inconvenient, because she could really use an in right about now.

She shifted her weight, her fingers tapping the notebook poking out of her open purse, and scanned the faces of the uniformed cops behind the yellow tape. If she couldn’t find an old-timer, she’d settle for a rookie – some fresh-faced newbie still too wet behind the ears to know not to talk to the press.

It was only on this second perusal that she saw him, and her face broke into a wide grin. She had a friend in town, after all. Striding towards the yellow tape, she called out to him. “Lieutenant Singh? Lieutenant Singh!” Even in heels, she had to hop up on her toes and wave her hand over her head to be seen over the crowd.

Hearing his name, David Singh turned, his gaze carrying over the crowd of onlookers until he caught sight of her. Then his face broke into a wide grin and he headed her way. As he approached, she could see the deep lines in his face. Light grey peppered the hair at his temples and in his beard, and he looked tired – the years had worn a little heavier on him than she remembered.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t little Iris West. You’re all grown up. How are you, sweetheart? It’s been a long time.”

She laughed. “I was in my twenties when I left. Hardly that little.”

He shrugged, his smile unrepentant. “I remember when your dad first brought you to the squad room. You were probably all of two weeks old, all wrapped up in your little blanket. Your dad was so proud as he introduced everyone to his little girl. Sometimes it’s hard to believe how much time has passed since then.” As though just realizing what he’d said, his smile fell and he gave her a grave look. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…Your dad was a great man, you know. A great cop. The squad has never been the same without him.”

It had been almost a decade, and yet her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. Unwilling to linger on the memory, she shook her head. “Thank you, Lieutenant. That…that means a lot.”

Clearly fighting back emotion of his own, Singh cleared his throat. “It’s – ah – it’s Captain now, actually.” He flashed a polite smile at her congratulations and then continued, “So, what brings you here? I doubt you came here to take a walk down memory lane.”

Her answering smile was a mildly sheepish. “Oh. Um, I’m here on work, actually.” Pulling out her press pass, she continued, “Central City Picture News.”

“I’d heard you joined the enemy camp,” he joked.

She laughed. “I come unarmed. Truce?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “I tell you what, West. You play fair with us, we’ll play fair with you. That said, I’m not sure we can help you with this investigation. It’s too early to issue a statement to the press.”

She nodded. “I figured, but I’m looking into a couple of older cases, actually.” Remembering the skepticism her story had met from her new bosses and peers, she was reluctant to be more specific. “I was hoping to talk to your CSI. Any chance you can spare a couple minutes of his time?”

Singh grunted and nodded to his left. “Feel free. If you can find him. He can be a little hard to pin down.”

“Thanks for the tip.” As someone called his name, drawing his attention away, she added, “It really is good to see you again, Li-Captain.”

Singh stepped back. “You too, West. By the way, that was a hell of an article you wrote about the money laundering operation that Senate candidate was running in the last election. Your dad would have been proud.”

Her jaw dropped. “What? I thought you – you didn’t seem to know I was –”

“I’m a detective and your dad was one of my best friends. You really think you could become a big shot reporter and I wouldn’t know about it? Give me some credit, West!” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Still warmed by their conversation, Iris smothered her smile as she headed in the direction he’d indicated she would find her target. Her movements unconscious, she stroked one finger along the spine of her notebook, tempted to review her notes. But there was no need; she knew them all by heart.

Rounding a cluster of trees, she saw a dark-haired man crouched over something on the ground  a couple of yards away. Dressed in slacks and a jacket, he wasn’t one of the officers. This had to be the man she was looking for. He was completely focused on his work, not looking up as she approached.

“Mr. Albert?” she called out. “Can I have a moment of your time? My name is –”

At the sound of her voice, the man looked up. Her heart skittered, skipping a beat, when their eyes met. He was too far away for her to see the color, but she didn’t need to. Even after all this time, she remembered the exact color, the precise pattern of gold and hazel. They were still the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. And she’d hoped never to see them again.

“Iris?” he asked, looking as shocked as she felt. “What – what are you doing here?”

Clutching the strap of her purse in a fist and tucking the other behind her to hide its trembling, she offered a shaky smile. “Barry Allen. Been a long time.”


	2. Chapter 2

Barry could barely believe his eyes when he looked up and saw Iris on the other side of the yellow tape. They hadn’t seen each other in years. He had almost forgotten how the sight of her took his breath away. His heart started to race, just as it had the night they’d first met, when he’d reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged to a Phi Delta Epsilon party. He’d walked in and seen her across the room, and when their eyes met, for just a moment, time itself seemed to stop. He still remembered the way the rest of the world seemed to disappear when she walked towards him. When she asked him to dance and took his hand, he felt like his entire life had been building to that moment. And when she stepped into his arms, her breathy laugh in his ear sending a shiver of desire down his spine, he still remembered the thought that came unbidden to mind – _I’m going to marry this girl someday_.

Of course, that was before the two of them realized they couldn’t stand each other. But that had never stopped his body from reacting to her every time she was near.

Distracted by the memories – and trying to slow his racing heart – his voice was subdued as he stepped towards her. He wished he could see her eyes, but they were hidden by the sunglasses she wore. “Yeah, it has. Been a long time, I mean. Uh – I didn’t know you were in Central City.”

He watched as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and lifted one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “Yeah, I just got back. I work for the CCPD now. Um, I’m a reporter.”

Barry opened his mouth to congratulate her on the new job, but what came out instead was, “You look amazing.” He hoped her tinted lenses hid his blush as he tried to recover, stammering, “I-I mean, it’s g-good to see you.” He lifted a hand to run it through his hair in an unconscious betrayal of nerves and grimaced when he realized he was still wearing latex gloves. The sight reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing. “You here on a story?”

Iris cleared her throat and tilted her face away, scanning the area behind him instead. “Uh, yeah, actually. Lieu – sorry, Captain Singh said I could talk to his CSI, but I didn’t – I didn’t realize it was you.” He watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other as she clutched the strap of her bag and wondered what she was thinking.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he stayed silent for several seconds, until it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything more. “Oh. Well. Is there something I can help you with?” he prompted.

He could swear he could feel the assessing weight of her gaze as she returned her attention to his face. After a moment, her mouth twisted, and he knew what she was going to say before she even shook her head. Still, he scowled in irritation when she took a step back, silently conveying her eagerness to leave, and replied, “No, I don’t think so. Could you give Julian Albert my card?” Digging into her purse, she pulled out a crisp business card. Barry slipped it into his pocket without thinking. “If he could give me a call and let me when it’s convenient to come by, I can talk to him then.”

Annoyed – if unsurprised – that nothing appeared to have changed since college, his voice was acerbic as he shot back, “I hate to tell you this, West, but if you want to meet with Julian, you’re going to need to go to the airport and not the police station. If you head out now, you can probably catch the last flight out.” He actually had no idea when flights to London would run, but it drove him crazy that his body couldn’t help but respond every time she was nearby while she seemed completely immune to him. There was something satisfying about seeing that he could get a reaction from her, even if only irritation – a muscle jumping in her jaw as she clenched her teeth. Still, she didn’t ask him what he meant. She probably didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So into the silence that fell between them, he explained, “Julian went back to England.”

“Oh, really? When I talked with someone at the precinct and they gave me his name, they didn’t say anything about him planning to leave. What happened? Did you join the force and he decided he’d rather flee the country than put up with you for any longer than he had to? Can’t say I blame him,” she asked with an overly sweet smile.

Barry glowered at her. “No, I’ve actually worked for the CCPD for a few years, now. But I was out for a while, and he was just a temporary replacement until I got back.”

“Pulling your usual disappearing act, Houdini?”

He bristled at the familiar nickname she’d given him a decade earlier. “Actually, I was in an accident. I spent a few months in the hospital. In a coma. Thanks for asking.”

He expected her to make some sort of joke about him sleeping on the job, but she didn’t. Instead, she stepped forward and reached over the yellow tape to grab his wrist, wincing slightly when a spark of static electricity arced between them. But her voice was soft when she asked, “Really? Oh, god, Barry, that sounds terrible. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” As though wanting to see for herself that he was unharmed, she pulled off her sunglasses and swept her gaze over his body, looking for any sign of injury.

When their eyes met, he felt like the ground fell out from under his feet, leaving him freefalling. Suddenly ashamed of his behavior, he flushed. “I’m…better,” he replied, his voice thick.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away, until she blushed and released her hold on his wrist. “I’m…I’m glad,” she admitted in a soft voice. “Anyway, I should let you get back to work.”

As she turned to leave, he blurted, “Wait. Are you sure you don’t want my help? It’s been a long time. People can change, you know.”

She seemed to consider his question for a moment, but finally she gave him a firm nod. “I’m sure. People can change, but the truth is, they usually don’t.” 

Unable to think of words to convince her to stay – and uncertain why he even wanted to – he could only watch as she walked away. Out of his life. Again.

* * *

 _EXPLOSION AT S.T.A.R. LABS KILLS FIVE, INJURES DOZENS_. Iris barely noticed the headline as she scrolled through the pages of the online newspaper. For the last few hours, she’d tried to put her unexpected encounter with Barry Allen out of her mind – with absolutely zero success. She finally convinced herself that she was just curious to know what had happened to put him in the hospital, and so she’d searched the online archives for his name. Finally, at the bottom of page three, she found the article. _CCPD OFFICER HOSPITALIZED AFTER LIGHTNING STRIKE._

It sounded horrible, and her heart twisted at the headline. She’d just begun to skim the article when her phone rang. When she saw the name that flashed on her screen, Iris smiled and leaned back in her chair, stretching a few kinks from her back as she answered the call.

“Tell me you are not still at work,” the woman on the other end of the line chastised her before she could even finish her greeting.

Iris glanced at the time and grimaced and hit the button to turn off her monitor. Bending, she grabbed her purse out of her drawer. “What? I don’t know what you mean. I submitted my story hours ago,” she prevaricated as she moved hastily towards the exit.

“Which doesn’t mean you’re not still at work,” Linda pointed out. Iris stifled a sigh. That was the problem with being friends with someone long enough that they could tell when you were splitting hairs. “You really do have to get a life eventually, you know.”

“I will!” she cried defensively. “I mean, I do! I totally have a life! I’m just…still getting settled in, is all.”

To her relief, her friend let that one pass without comment. “So, how was your first day as an official part of CCPN? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, you know. Stupid last-minute assignments. But we’re totally going to celebrate when I get back.”

“It’s all right, I understand. And it was great!” Walking towards her car, she said, “You’ll never believe who I ran into today. Barry Allen,” she supplied before Linda could guess. A long moment of silence greeted that revelation, so she pressed, “Linda, why didn’t you tell me he’d been in an accident? It sounds pretty serious.”

She heard the heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Honestly? I wasn’t sure that you’d want to know.” At Iris’s offended gasp, she exclaimed, “I didn’t mean it like that! But it’s just…look, everybody knows how to two of you are. You’ve never gotten along. And you had a lot going on. Your engagement with Eddie had just ended, and you were…well, I just figured you had enough to worry about that a freak accident involving some guy you couldn’t stand in college probably wouldn’t be your primary concern.”

Iris understood where Linda was coming from, but somehow the words still hurt. “I wouldn’t say I couldn’t stand him. I mean, okay, we were never friends.” She felt a slight twinge of guilt as she said the words, telling herself it was just a little white lie. They never had been friends…exactly. If she told Linda now that there had been a couple times they might have become something more, she’d never live it down. Ignoring the memories, she continued, “But that doesn’t mean I hated him. I mean, he wasn’t just some guy. He was your friend. He was part of the group. If I’d known he’d been in an accident, I would have come by. I always assumed the two of you stayed in touch after college.”

“We have,” Linda admitted. “I don’t see him as often as Caitlin does, but we grab lunch together once a month or so. Listen, I’m sorry, Iris. If I’d known that you’d want to be there, I would have told you. I mean that. I just assumed that you…you know…”

“That I wouldn’t care,” she finished with a sigh. It still hurt a little, but she could hardly blame her friend. Her friends, really. Her fights with Barry had been practically legendary back in the day. She supposed in their shoes, she’d have assumed the same thing. “So, how long was he in a coma?”

There was another long silence before Linda admitted in a reluctant voice, “Um…about…nine months.”

“ _Nine months_??” she practically shrieked in shock. “ _Jesus_ , Linda!”

“But he’s okay now! I mean, you obviously know that if you saw him today. He was in a coma for a while, and the doctors weren’t sure if he would come out of it. Then one day he just…did. It was…amazing, if you want to know the truth. So, are you working with him on a story, then?”

Iris snorted. “Hardly. I mean, I’m glad he’s okay, but you know what it’s like when two of us are together. We’ve always been like oil and water. Toothpaste and orange juice.”

“Gasoline on a fire?”

Iris grinned. “More like cyanide and…well, pretty much anything, I guess.”

“So, which of you is the cyanide?” Linda asked with a laugh. 

Feigning offense, Iris tried not to laugh in return as she retorted, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t even have to ask.”

* * *

Barry leaned back in his chair and sighed, staring at the small scrap of cardstock on the desk in front of him. The edges were no longer crisp; though new, the card already looked slightly worn from being handled so often over the last few days. 

He tried to turn his attention to the stack of cases by his elbow, but his attention was drawn once more to the card’s lettering.

_Iris West  
_ _Central City Picture News_

Her e-mail address and phone number were emblazoned below, and Barry stared at the string of digits. He could call her and apologize. They’d never gotten along, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty over his behavior. He’d given in to his frustration that she didn’t want anything to do with him. Just like he always did. But if she was working the crime beat for CCPN – as seemed likely, given her appearance at one of his crime scenes – then their paths were bound to cross again. They didn’t have to like each other, but surely they could be professional.

That decided it. He would call her and suggest a truce. It was time to put the past behind them. Before he could lose his nerve, he picked up the phone and dialed the number on the bottom. It was only when the phone started to ring that he glanced at the clock and realized it was after nine. There was no way Iris would be working so late. Well, he could leave a message, he decided. Then the ball would be in her court, at least.

However, much to his surprise, Iris answered the phone after the third ring. Her voice was a little higher than usual as she answered. “Hello?”

“It’s Barry. Um…Barry Allen.” He grimaced, realizing how lame he sounded, but he’d called her on impulse, before taking the time to think through what he would actually say. “I was calling about the other day. I wanted to apologize–”

“What? Barry? I appreciate that, but this really isn’t a good time.” He straightened abruptly in his chair, hearing the tension in her voice.

“Iris? Where are you? Are you okay?”

Lowering her voice, Iris murmured quickly, “Listen, I need you to call Singh right now. Tell him if he wants to know who’s running the operation to smuggle in the drugs that have been flooding into the city lately, he should send a squad to Cavendish Tower. Eighteenth floor. Tell him – hold on.”

He heard Iris move, and then silence for a long moment. Finally, he heard her yelp as a muffled voice on the other end of the line said, “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Someone poking their nose where it doesn’t belong?”

Another voice replied, “Get rid of her. No, not the gun. Do you want the police crawling around this place? Make it look like an accident, stupid.”

Barry was moving before the sentence was finished. Luckily, he’d stored a spare suit nearby, because he doubted he would have bothered to take the time to change, otherwise. Even though his speed let him change into his suit in a fraction of a second.

Though he’d spent endless hours in training in the last few months, trying to test the limit of his speed, he had no doubt he ran faster than he ever had before as he raced to the Cavendish Building. On the other end of the line, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle, followed by a man cursing. Then his heart stopped as he heard glass break.

“Throw her out!” one of the men yelled.

Barry was still a block away when he saw a large figure toss Iris through the open window, her petite body falling towards the ground below. Although he hadn’t yet tested whether he could move fast enough to run up the side of a building, he didn’t have time to doubt himself or second-guess his plan of action.

Pushing himself even harder, Barry ran as fast as he could. His eyes locked on Iris, he barely noticed that his plan was working. He was actually running up the side of a building. Instead, he focused on her angle of descent, realizing only a second before he reached her that she was falling too far away from the building. If he wanted to catch her, he would have to jump.

Although part of him was scared that it would cause him to lose just enough momentum that the two of them would go hurtling towards the ground, he didn’t hesitate. When he was a few feet away from her, he crouched quickly and leaped into the air as high as he could, swallowing a silent prayer that it would be enough.

Barry almost sobbed in relief when she landed hard against him, but he knew he couldn’t stop yet or they would die. Straining to pick up the speed he’d lost in the jump, Barry turned and ran back down the building. Once back on the ground, however, he wasn’t sure what to do. Even with his mask, he was afraid she would recognize him if she got a good look at his face, and he wasn’t sure he should risk it. But he didn’t want to just leave her without asking if she was okay.

Acting on impulse, Barry ran a few blocks away and carried Iris up the side of a coffee shop that was closed for the evening. The roof was dark, too high for the dim glow of the street lights below to reach. It was only then that he stopped and held her close, savoring the feel of her in his arms. But he knew he couldn’t hold onto her forever. Breathing heavily – more from lingering fear than exertion – Barry slowly, reluctantly, put her back on her feet though he still held her tight against him. Standing like this, it was easy to forget the animosity that they’d shared over the years as he remembered the first time he’d held her in his arms. Like it had then, his body ached with the desire not to let her go.

* * *

_“Phi Delta Epsilon? Really?” he asked, his voice filled with dread as they walked towards the front steps._

_Cisco laughed. “It’s a party, not an execution. Come on! It’ll be fun!”_

_Barry snorted. “I’ve heard about their parties. I’m not entirely sure they aren’t the same thing.”_

_“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have come either, except…if you saw the girl who invited me…trust me; it’s worth it.” Stifling a chuckle, Barry rolled his eyes and followed his friend inside. “I’m going to see if I can find her. Try to have fun, okay?”_

_As Cisco walked away, Barry stifled a sigh and scanned the room, hoping to see someone he knew to talk to. That was when he saw her, standing across the room. In her bright red dress, she had drawn a crowd of men to her like moths to a flame, but she looked like she wanted to escape. Then their eyes met, and he found himself unable to draw breath._

_She murmured something to the man who was trying unsuccessfully to convince her to accept the drink he offered. Then she stepped forward, weaving her way through the crowd. Barry’s heart started to pound as she approached. Even in heels, she was tiny; he had to bow his head so she could murmur in his ear. “You look like you’re as happy to be here as I am,” she said, her voice lightly teasing._

_“My friend wanted to come, so he dragged me along,” he admitted._

_She nodded, as though he had only confirmed something she’d suspected. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, she gave it a tug. “Dance with me?”_

_“Are you sure? I’m not a great dancer,” he admitted, though he followed her readily enough._

_The stranger wrapping her arms around his neck and started to move to the music, silently encouraging him to move with her. “Even better,” she replied, laughing in his ear._

_“Just follow my lead,” she directed. She was intoxicating. He’d follow her anywhere._ I’m going to marry this girl someday. _The words came with an almost bone-deep conviction._

_Oblivious to his thoughts, she turned, pressing against him as she lifted one arm to curl around his neck to run her fingers through his hair. Grabbing his hand, she brought it to her stomach, holding it in place. He moved his other hand to her hip, stroking the soft fabric of her dress._

I’m going to marry this girl someday.

* * *

 

Iris started to pull away to look up at him, and he sped behind her before she could get a good look at his face. “I-” He caught himself just in time. Using his speed to vibrate his vocal cords and face, he asked, “Miss West? Are you okay?” Iris froze as he stepped behind her until he repeated his question. “Are you okay?”

She turned slowly and stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh, my god. It’s you. It’s really you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Barry was so surprised by Iris’s words that he didn’t realize he’d stopped vibrating until her eyes widened and she took a step forward. Alarmed she might have discovered is secret, he sped a few feet away, moving deeper into the shadows. By the time she turned to face him, he had his vibration under control once more.

Though he still was nervous about what her words had meant. “W-what do you mean?” he asked. “It’s me?”

She smiled, and once again, he almost forgot to continue vibrating. “The Streak. You are the Streak, right? The one people have reported seeing around the city?”

Relieved, he laughed, his shoulders sagging. “Oh. Yeah. That’s me.” Realizing he probably sounded like a dork, he could only hope that his mask would cover his blush. Clearing his throat, he attempted superhero gravitas when he added more firmly, “I mean, I’m the Streak.”

Her grin grew wider. “Wow.” Then she shook her head. “So how do you know my name?”

Her question almost gave him a heart attack, and he cursed himself silently for the slip. He wracked his brain for an explanation and grasped the first one that came to mind. “There’s a billboard outside of CCPN advertising the star investigative reporter that just joined their team. I saw it earlier tonight when I was running around on patrol.”

Iris cocked her head to the side. “On patrol, huh? I guess I should be grateful you were running by when you were. Certainly could have ended a lot differently for me if you hadn’t been, but you’re definitely not what I expected.”

Barry frowned slightly, unsure how to take that remark. “Oh. Um, that’s…is that a good thing?”

He watched as she bit the corner of her lip and took a step towards him. “That depends,” she replied in a soft voice. “Will you give me an interview?”

Though he supposed he should have expected the request, her suggestion surprised a laugh out of him. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I do have a secret identity to protect…” he began, but she cut him off.

“I’m not trying to put your secret identity in jeopardy. I promise. But you’re the hero of Central City. Knowing that you’re out there…it’ll give people hope.”

She had moved closer, her eyes narrowed as she tried to get a better look at his face, and Barry’s nerve failed him. Speeding behind her, he stepped in close. Then he bowed his head so he could murmur in her ear. “I’m not trying to be a hero, Miss West.”

Iris turned her head to look at him. Their faces were inches apart; if he leaned forward slightly he could brush his lips against hers. He didn’t dare move, but he had to clench his hands into fists at his sides to resist the urge. “If not a hero, then what are you?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. “One wrong move, and you could have died tonight, saving my life. If you’re not trying to be a hero, then why do you do it?”

Knowing it was a risk, Barry stopped vibrating his face and for just a moment, let himself be Barry Allen and not the faceless Streak. Still, he spoke in a low voice to disguise his voice as he murmured, “Because I’m the only one who can.”

Iris made a soft sound in the back of her throat and half-turned, wrapping one hand around his wrist. In an insistent, almost desperate, tone, she asked, “How long have you had your powers? When did you get them?”

He frowned, momentarily confused by the intensity of her question. “Uh – about a year. A little over a year, I mean.”

“Since the night of the particle accelerator explosion?” she pressed.

When he nodded, she threw an arm around his neck. Barry wasn’t expecting the kiss, so he froze when their mouths met. He couldn’t entirely process what was happening. Iris West was kissing him. She had hated him since almost the day they met, and she was kissing him.

_Iris West was kissing him!_

He reached for her, intending to draw her in closer, but he was a second too late. Police sirens passed by a few blocks away, shattering the moment, and Iris released him with a soft moan. Dropping the arm around his neck, she stepped back. “Um…if you change your mind about that interview, come by my place.” She quickly blurted the address. Flushing, she added quickly, “And, um, about the kiss. That wasn’t…I didn’t…um…I just wanted to say thank you. For saving my life.”

Barry blinked a few times. He wanted to say something cool. Something smooth. Something that would sweep her off her feet and make her realize that maybe the guy she’d hated for years wasn’t so bad, after all. But the only words that came to mind before he sped away were, “Any time, Miss West.”

* * *

 

A half hour later, Iris let herself into her apartment and grimaced at the sight of boxes piled up against the wall – a testament to the fact she hadn’t yet finished getting settled in to her new place. She’d been lucky to find it, and although she wasn’t entirely settled in yet, she loved it already. Besides, situated on the top floor of the high-rise, her large balcony gave her a spectacular view of the city that simply couldn’t be beat.

Iris moved towards her large glass balcony doors and stared out at the city with unseeing eyes. Had she actually kissed the Streak? She had, hadn’t she? It wasn’t a dream or a hallucination brought on by an excess of “certainty of impending death” adrenaline. She’d actually kissed the Streak. At least a hundred times, she’d imagined what she might say or ask the Streak if she managed to track him down. She’d never imagined she would do _that_.

But, then, he wasn’t what she’d expected. At the thought, she turned and looked over at the stack of folders and loose papers scattered across her dining room table. He hadn’t been what she’d expected at all. He was a lot younger than she’d anticipated, for one thing. What did it mean?

Her steps quick and purposeful, Iris walked over to her table and began to sift through her research. When she’d first heard about sighting of a red streak zooming around Central City, she’d taken to the Internet in a request for people to submit any sightings of or interactions with the mysterious hero. She’d received hundreds of responses that had taken weeks to sift through.

Of course, as a reporter, she’d known that any story that came without proof had to be taken with a grain of salt. She knew people would sometimes lie for a chance at glory, at being a part of something that was bigger than themselves. To see their name in the news or their picture on television. For others, there was no malicious or self-serving intent – merely the desire to attribute greater meaning to random circumstance. Trip and fall seconds before a cement block falls where you would have been standing, you might attribute that to a simple twist of fate…or to the intervention of a mysterious, unseen hero.

Iris had gone through the numerous submissions she’d received over the past few months and pulled out any that seemed to be either improbable or clearly fictitious. Now she went through the stack again, pulling out only those submissions that dated since the night of the particle accelerator explosion. Stacking the rest atop a leather-bound book in the corner of the table, she re-sorted the stories of possible Streak sightings, putting them in date order. Then she laid them out on the table in front of her, creating a visual timeline of his activities.

Of course, even now, she knew she still couldn’t take every story at face value. The majority of these anecdotes came without any form of proof – not even an iPhone photo of a red blur racing by. And many could be attributing a simple coincidence to an outside force. For example, the earliest submission – dated only two days after the explosion – was from a woman who swore her unknown would-be assailant had been knocked down by an unseen force when giving chase her through the park. If the anecdote could be taken at face value, it certainly could be the first recorded act of the city’s self-appointed guardian. Or the details could be exaggerated and the victim’s narrow escape was the product of gravity and perhaps an errant tree branch. It was impossible to know for sure.

Iris paused and ran a fingertip along her lower lip as she pondered the timeline in front of her. Then she grabbed a notebook and started to jot down questions. If she was going to get an interview with the masked superhero one day, she needed to be prepared. 

One thing was for sure. He was going to need a better name than the Streak.

* * *

“Iris? God, it’s so good to see you! When did you get back?” Dr. Caitlin Snow cried happily as she raced forward to give her a hug. They had been close friends in college, but they hadn’t kept in touch as much as they’d intended after graduation. They occasionally exchanged social media messages over the years, but it had been ages since they’d last seen each other.

“Oh, I haven’t been back for long. I’m still getting settled in,” she admitted as they grabbed their coffee and walked together to a nearby table. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good!” Caitlin replied. They chatted for a few minutes, and then she asked, “So, what's up? Not it’s not great to catch up, but I suspect you didn’t call me to hear my thoughts on the new sushirito place that opened down the block from my apartment.”

Iris laughed. “Not quite. And whoever came up with that idea needs to really re-evaluate their life choices. But I was actually hoping to get your professional opinion on something.” Clutching her cup of coffee between her palms, she leaned in. “The thing is, I’m investigating some of the strange events around the city lately. You know, with the metahumans? There have been a couple of strange deaths that I think could be meta activity. I have some coroner reports, but I wanted to get a second opinion. Since I can hardly get that from the coroner’s office, I’m looking for someone who can provide an independent review. I thought, with your background…any chance I could talk you into it?”

Caitlin grimaced. “Oh. I mean, I’d love to help, but my career has gone on a different path since college. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that. I don’t know how much I’d be able to help you.” Before Iris could tell her not to worry about it, she perked up. “But you know who you should talk to? Barry Allen. I know he works with the CCPD, but he’s helped investigate every metahuman attack in Central City. Nobody knows more about the strange events in the city over the past year than he does.”

Iris choked on a sip of coffee. “Barry? Oh. No. No, no. No, no, no. That’s not necessary. I’m sure he’s very good at what he does. Not no. No. Absolutely not. No.”

Caitlin laughed. “So that’s a maybe?” she joked. “Seriously, though. What is your deal? The two of you have never been able to go for ten minutes without picking a fight.”

She shrugged. “It’s complicated. Or, I don’t know. Maybe it’s not. We just don’t get along. There doesn’t have to be some sort of deeper meaning to it.”

“Yeah, well. If you can believe it, there was a time Linda and I thought we might set the two of you up.”

Iris snorted. “Yeah. I know. You weren’t exactly subtle with those blind dates. Though why you’d think I would go on a date with Barry when I knew you had a huge crush on him, I have no idea. I mean, why would you even do that?”

“Well, he was my friend! I really wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. And, anyway, it wasn’t that big of a crush!” Caitlin protested. When Iris just rolled her eyes in return, she added meekly, “Okay, so maybe it was. But since he clearly never saw me as anything other than a friend, I got over it.” After a second’s pause, she added suspiciously, “Wait…that’s not why you’ve never gotten along with him, is it? This wasn’t all some misguided attempt at friendship solidarity?”

Iris laughed. “No, of course not. I mean, maybe I initially teased him to get back at him a bit for being a blind idiot and breaking your heart all the time, even if he didn’t mean to do it. And the Houdini thing came after he flaked on you so often. But honestly, no. Come on. That was a long time ago.”

“Which brings us back to the original question. What’s the deal with you and Barry? If you weren’t trying to protect my feelings…I mean, you never even gave him a chance.”

Iris dropped her gaze to her coffee cup. “Oh, I gave him a chance,” she mumbled. She almost told Caitlin the whole story, everything that had happened in the past with Barry. But that was as long time ago. What did it matter now? So rather than go into the whole story, she made a joke to deflect the conversation, “Anyway, your lamentable taste in men in college really doesn’t have anything to do with my problems with Barry now. We’ve just never gotten along. That’s all.”

Caitlin still looked a little dubious. “If you say so. Still, I think the two of you could have been really cute together. Maybe you should give him a second chance.” 

Iris rolled her eyes. “Me and Barry Allen? That was never gonna happen in college, and it’s not going to happen now.”

* * *

_“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about your blind date. I know it took forever to get you to agree to it, but –”_

_“Actually, that’s why I was calling,” Iris interrupted Caitlin before she could continue. “Um…I hate to do this, but can we cancel? The thing is, I met this guy a few nights ago, and I think…well…I can’t really explain it, but I think we could have something special. If I can find him again.”_

_That took her friend by surprise. “If you can find him again? Didn’t you get his number?”_

_Iris sighed. “I didn’t even get his name. Everything was going great, but then the cops showed up and…well, there was a lot of alcohol at that party and we weren’t exactly legal drinking age. Everyone scrambled to get away before we could get caught, and I kind of lost him in the crowd. But they’re throwing another party in a few days. I’m hoping he’ll be there. At any rate, that’s the night of the blind date, so…”_

_“I understand. And, anyway, Barry – my friend, the one I was going to set you up with – he asked if we could cancel, too. I guess he met someone too. He wouldn’t really tell me much about her. Just that he knew the minute he saw her that he was going to marry her someday.”_

_Caitlin sounded a little bit miserable as she said the words, and Iris replied softly, “Oh, Cait. I’m so sorry. You know, this is probably for the best. He probably wouldn’t even be turn out to be my type. He’s an idiot, and I don’t usually fall for idiots.”_

_With a laugh that was just a shade sad, Caitlin protested, “He’s really not. But I appreciate the support. Anyway, I still think the two of you should meet. I think the two of you would really hit it off. As friends, I mean.”_

_“Sure, that sounds great!” Iris agreed. “Why don’t we grab some coffee together? I’m free this afternoon…”_

* * *

 

A few nights later, Iris had grabbed a large glass of wine and was headed for the couch when she heard a soft sound out on her balcony. Almost absently, she glanced out the open door only to find the familiar red-clad superhero, his hand lifted uncertainly as he prepared to knock on the glass to get her attention.

“I-I wasn’t sure if I should just drop by, but I didn’t have your number,” he admitted, his voice echoing strangely as it had before. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the way he used his speed to blur his features. “I’ve thought about it, and…I trust that you won’t print anything that would risk my secret identity. I’ll give you that interview, if you’re still interested.”

“What? I’m interested! I’m definitely interested! I’m…um, I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” she added, blushing when she realized she was dressed for bed, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that fell to her thighs. “Just…stay right there, okay? Don’t move. Give me…give me two minutes.” Racing to the dining room table, she swept the paperwork she’d been studying into a messy pile and carried it with her into her bedroom, where she scrambled to get ready in record time.

A few minutes later, Iris raced out of her room to find the Flash still standing on the balcony, staring out at the city. She’d exchanged her t-shirt for a simple summer dress and pulled her hair out of its messy pony tail. And although she’d been worried he would disappear on her, she’d ducked into the restroom to freshen up her makeup. It wasn’t every day that she got the chance at a one-on-one interview with a superhero, after all.

“Hey,” she said warmly, smoothing down the skirt of her dress as she stepped onto the balcony. “Sorry to keep you waiting. At least I’m a little more presentable now.”

He looked over at her. “Something tells me you always look incredible.”

She blushed and waved a finger at him. “Pretty smooth, Flash. But flattery won’t make me go easy on you.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied, sounding amused. “And thanks for the new name, by the way.”

“So, speaking of the interview,” she said pointedly. “Let’s talk about your abilities. I know you run fast. You can even run up the side of buildings – thanks again for that, by the way. What else can you do?”

“I’m still figuring that out for myself,” he admitted.

She nodded. “All right. So how fast can you go?” As she talked, she walked over to her patio table and took a seat so she could jot down some notes in the small notebook she’d brought outside with her.

Flash followed. “I’m not sure I’ve found my top speed, to be honest.”

Iris threw him a disgruntled look. “You’re pretty light on the detail. You know that?”

Though his features were blurred, she could make out the traces of a smile. “I don’t mean to be. I promise.”

Sitting back in her seat, she tapped her pen against the table and regarded him thoughtfully. “All right. Let’s talk about something you can tell me. What’s it like to run that fast? I know you ran with me the other night but...I was a little preoccupied at the time.”

He held out a hand to her. “In that case, let me show you.” When she hesitated, he asked, “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that,” she admitted. “It’s just…are you sure it’s safe? For me to move that fast, that is. I mean, I don’t have your abilities, and –”

“I would never let anything bad happen to you, Iris.”

His words were spoken with such quiet conviction, she couldn’t doubt his sincerity. Without a second thought, she placed her hand in his. “I trust you, Flash.”

Without another word, he swept her into his arms, carrying her down the side of the building and through the city streets. They were moving at such incredible speeds that Iris found herself holding her breath, at first. Taking it all in. Then she relaxed against him and allowed herself to enjoy the ride.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed – then wondered how she could even do so, with the air rushing by so fast. Or how she could hear his words when he replied.

“There’s nothing like it,” he admitted. “Running so fast the rest of the world stand still.” His smile was soft when he met her eyes. “That’s how I felt the first time I saw you.” 

Iris felt her heart skip a beat. “Flatterer,” she breathed, resting her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Barry’s heart was still racing when he returned Iris to her balcony, putting her carefully back on her feet. “You okay?”

“That was…that was incredible,” she breathed. “I can see why there have been so many sighting of a red streak around the city since you got your powers. If I could run like that, I’m not sure I could convince myself to ever stop.”

“Sometimes it’s hard,” he admitted. “Sometimes I feel like there’s something greater than myself drawing me in. The source of my speed, maybe. I have to remind myself not to give in because I think sometimes that I might lose myself to it.” He grimaced and looked down. “That probably sounded ridiculous.”

Iris shook her head. “Not at all. I mean, I can’t pretend I entirely understand what you mean. But it doesn’t sound ridiculous.”

Her hands were still braced upon his chest, her mouth close enough to kiss if he just leaned forward slightly. She cleared her throat and asked softly, “But there’s something I need to ask you. And I…I really need you to be honest with me. Okay?”

“Of course, Iris,” he promised. He wanted to tell her everything, though of course he knew he couldn’t. She might like running with the Flash, but he had no illusions that she’d be so happy to be held by Barry Allen.

He watched her suck in a deep breath, and then she asked, “Are there others like you? Speedsters, I mean?”

He wasn’t so much surprised by the question – with the number of metahumans that had been seen around the city in the past year, it was only reasonable to ask – as he was thrown by the fervency in her tone. Barry frowned and shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “Not that I’ve ever found.”

Iris flicked her tongue across her lower lip, her gaze dropping to the lightening logo on his chest. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” she admitted. “So tell me. Who’s the man in the yellow suit? The one with the red lightning? He was first spotted in Central City years ago, long before the particle accelerator explosion.”

He frowned, confused by the question. “The who?”


	4. Chapter 4

Barry was about to press Iris for more information when the sound of police cars racing by on the street below caught his attention. Apparently noticing his distraction, Iris smiled. “Time to go be a hero, huh, Flash?” she asked softly.

Surprisingly, he didn’t want to leave. If someone had told him earlier that day that he’d actually enjoy an evening in Iris’s company without the two of them devolving into an argument – or at least the occasional passive-aggressive jibe – he would never have believed it. But now he’d not only been enjoying her company, he’d kissed her.

 _He’d kissed her._ More, he was tempted to duck his head and kiss her again. It was a temptation he thought he’d left behind him years ago.

“But what about the man in yellow?” he asked dubiously, looking for an excuse to stay.

Iris put her hand over the lightning logo on his chest. “I must have been mistaken,” she allowed. “Go. Be a hero. But…can we finish our interview when you’re done saving the world?”

Almost without realizing it, he ducked his head until his mouth was only inches from hers. Catching himself in time, he smiled. “It’s a promise,” he murmured before racing off in pursuit of the fading police car sirens. Feeling like he left a piece of himself on the rooftop with her. Wondering how that could be, after so many years.

* * *

“Mr. Albert? I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Iris said cheerfully into the phone. “My name is Iris West. I’m a reporter for CCPN. In Central City? I wondered if I could have a moment of your time.”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded cautiously welcoming as he replied, “Of course, Miss West. How can I help you? You understand I don’t work for CCPD anymore?”

“Oh, I understand. I was hoping you might be able to help me anyway. You see, I’m investigating the incidents of supposed metahuman activity throughout the city. I understand you were the acting CSI at the department for a few months. I was hoping you might be able to give me a little more information.”

Julian Albert grunted on the other end of the line. “Ah. That.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. I investigated some reported incidents when I was with CCPD, but we didn’t really get anywhere. If you want my opinion, I think it’s all a sham. But if you want to know more, I really think you should talk to Barry Allen. He’s the regular CSI with the department. I was filing in while he was on leave. He might be able to tell you more.”

Iris stifled a sigh. It seemed every road led her to Barry. Did the universe hate her that much? “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Thank you for your time.”

* * *

A few hours later, Iris tried to put thoughts of Barry out of her mind as she walked into the bar and looked around for her friends. When she caught sight of Linda and Caitlin at one of the tables, she waved and headed over.

“Wow. This place certainly brings back memories,” she said cheerfully as she gave them each a hug. “I can’t believe our old hangout hasn’t changed at all.”

“Well, that’s not true,” Linda pointed out. “I think some of the stools are refinished. And they had to replace a couple of the wooden tables in the back after some Delta Phi brothers had a few too many beers and got into a fight a few years ago. But other than that, yeah. It’s probably exactly the same.”

“I’m not even sure they’ve washed the floor,” Caitlin added, her nose wrinkling as she glanced down. “I don’t even want to know what I’m stepping in right now.”

“Good memories, Caity dear. Good memories,” Linda teased.

“Who’s ready for some drinks?” Iris turned to see Kara, her fellow reporter and newest friend approach, her hands filled with mugs of beer. “I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted. I’ve got some shots coming in a bit.” Once she’d passed out the drinks, she gave Iris a quick hug.

“Shots?” Caitlin sounded nonplussed. She’d never been very good at holding her liquor.

Linda grinned and reassured her, “It isn’t a party without shots, and Iris deserves a proper welcome home. Don’t worry. I’ll drink yours.”

“All right, but who’s drinking the fifth beer?” Iris asked, grabbing a mug and taking a large sip. “Someone expecting a hot date? Who’s holding out on me?”

“Ah…about that.” Caitlin threw her a sheepish look. “I – um – I invited Barry. I hope you don’t mind.” Before Iris could reply, she rushed to explain, “It’s just, I know you weren’t that close in college, but we’re older now. And you have known each other for years. I thought he might want to welcome you back to town. Properly, I mean.”

Iris arched her eyebrows. “I doubt it,” she muttered. But seeing Caitlin’s stricken look, she shrugged. “It’s okay, Caitlin. I don’t mind. It’s not like I expect him to show up anyway. We may be older, but some things don’t change.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t look behind you, because he just walked in,” Linda murmured under her breath.

Iris’s long ponytail whipped in an arc as she spun around to glance at the door. As their eyes met, her heart jumped. Just as it had on a similar evening, so many years before.

* * *

_“So, Iris. Ever track down that mystery man of yours?” Linda asked once she finished her shot, followed with a gulp of beer._

_Iris shrugged. “No. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I made him up.” With a scowl, she explained, “I went to Phi Delta Epsilon house. Nobody there has ever heard of him.” Not wanting to dwell on her own disappointment, she added lightly, “Speaking of people who might not exist…I thought your friend Barry was coming tonight? He can’t possibly be standing us up for the third time in a row. I’m beginning to think he’s a ghost.”_

_Caitlin took her shot and pulled a face. “God, that’s revolting,” she muttered under her breath, gulping her own cheap beer to try to wash away the taste. That done, she replied, “I’m sorry. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be rude. He just tends to get wrapped up in things. He loses track of time. You’ll get to meet him eventually.”_

_“Can’t wait,” Iris replied dryly, thinking – and not for the first time – that Barry sounded more like a big jerk than a bit of a flake. “He sounds like a great guy.” At Caitlin’s unhappy grimace, she felt a stab of guilt and softened her tone, remembering her friend’s crush on the jerk in question. “So, um, how’d the two of you meet, anyway?”_

_Caitlin blushed, her eyes shining. “Oh, it’s kind of a funny story, actually. I had just moved on campus. I didn’t know anyone, and I was feeling a little lonely. I thought I’d go down to the bookstore and get my textbooks. Get started on my schoolwork a little early.”_

_Linda shook her head. “Only you would think studying would be the best way to meet friends. Not going to a party or something,” she teased, not unkindly._

_Caitlin rolled her eyes at her. “Anyway, I was at the bookstore and…I don’t know what happened, really. I had seen this guy on campus a couple of times when I was moving in. Not Barry. Someone older. I thought he might be a professor or something. I was having trouble finding my books, but I thought I saw him in the bookstore. I turned to ask him if he could help me figure out where to find my books, and I somehow knocked over a huge pile of books. Barry was standing on the other side. I almost killed him!”_

_“That is a funny story,” Iris offered, her voice flat, though she tried to force a smile._

_Her friend shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t sound that interesting now. It was just weird at the time. I didn’t think I was standing that close to the stack of books. I guess I must have hit it with my purse or something. Anyway, after nearly subjecting Barry to Death by Textbook, I offered to buy him a cup of coffee in apology. It was the least I could do. He was my first real friend in Central City.” Her story ended, Caitlin took another sip of beer. “Anyway, enough about him. Iris, you should know that there’s a cute guy at the bar who’s been checking you out ever since we walked in.”_

_“Really?” Iris asked, foolishly hoping for a second that he might be the man she sought. “What’s he look like?”_

_“Blond hair. Blue eyes. Got that All American Boy kind of charm about him. Very hot.” Blushing, she added with an embarrassed smile, “Anthropologically speaking.”_

_Linda let out a bark of laughter, hiding it behind her mug of beer, while Iris shot a glance over her shoulder. The man at the bar was every bit as hot as Caitlin had indicated. He just wasn’t the one she had hoped to see._

_“You going to go over there?” Linda asked lifting her eyebrows suggestively._

_“Maybe in a minute,” she agreed, trying to hide her disappointment. “When I finish my beer.” At her friends’ confused expressions, she explained, “I’ll get the next round and strike up some conversation while I wait.”_

_Just then, Caitlin jumped suddenly to her feet. “Barry!” Caitlin cried, waving her hand frantically towards the door._

_Iris spun on her chair, curious to see the jerk who had inexplicably caught her friend’s eye. That’s when she saw him. The guy from the party. Unthinkingly, she rose to her feet as well, her gaze locked on his. “Barry’s here? Where?” Even as she asked the question, she sent up a silent prayer that Caitlin was referring to anyone but him._

_Her prayer went unanswered as Caitlin explained, “Yeah, he just walked in! Blue jeans. Black sweater. He’s headed this way.”_

_Iris’s disappointment was crushing, and she tore her gaze away, returning her attention to her beer. It couldn’t be. The guy she’d met at the party, the guy she’d been seeking ever since…he was the flake her friend couldn’t stop talking about? He was Caitlin’s hopeless crush? It couldn’t be. Of all the rotten luck._

_If she’d only known, she would have concocted some sort of plan. She would have known how to act when they finally met again. She didn’t want to let on that he was the guy she’d been looking for, not at the risk of hurting one of the best friends. Especially since he hadn’t exactly made a great impression since. She’d had her hopes so high, and it turned out he was probably just a big jerk._

_She could feel Barry’s gaze on her as he approached the table. “I can’t believe it,” she heard him murmur, and the sound of his voice shot a shiver down her spine. “I’ve been –”_

_Desperate to keep him from inadvertently spilling the beans, Iris did the first thing that came to mind. She spun on her chair and threw him a polite smile, pretending that he was a perfect stranger. “You must be the notorious Barry Allen. I’ve heard a lot about you.”_

_She saw his hesitation at her apparent lack of recognition, but then he smiled. He looked at her like he’d been waiting his whole life to find her, his gaze warm. His eyes were beautiful – hazel, with flecks of gold – and she caught her breath. He held out his hand to shake hers, and she gasped when she felt the spark of static electricity between them. His hand was warm in hers, making her long to pull him closer. “So you’re Iris. You know, I’ve been looking –”_

_Realizing she hadn’t put him off by pretending not to recognize him, Iris decided she was going to have to go on the offensive to keep him from saying more. Jerking her hand from his, she continued, cutting him off, “But I was beginning to think you didn’t exist. Caitlin says you’re just a little flaky, but I figure you’re probably just a jerk. So which is it?”_

_Iris heard Caitlin gasp. Behind her, Linda muttered, “That’s going in a little hard, isn’t it?”_

_Barry looked taken aback. “Oh. Um. I-I’m…” he stammered, shooting his friend a confused look. “Uh..C-Caitlin, I’m sorry I’m late. I got caught up in something.”_

_“Fancy that,” Iris muttered, taking a sip of her beer. She was conflicted. When she remembered the guy she’d danced with that night, she felt guilty for being so rude. She wanted to grab him and pick up where they’d left off. But when she remembered that he was the guy who had blown them off twice before, who was the man her friend inexplicably loved, the guy who kept breaking her heart time and time again…well, then she wondered if she hadn’t had a near escape._

_Part of her wanted to grab him and kiss him, to see if reality lived up with the fantasies she’d been entertaining since their first meeting. The other part of her wanted to scream at him for not being who she wanted him to be. Worse, for being the last person she would have wanted him to be._

_She couldn’t hurt her friend by confessing the truth. Especially since it turned out that the man she’d imagined him to be might have only existed in her imagination. It wasn’t worth it._

_“It’s okay, Barry! I understand!” Caitlin blurted, before Iris could say anything else. “I was hoping you were late because you were with your mystery girl.” At her words, Iris froze. He couldn’t have been looking for her just as hard as she’d been looking for him? How dreadful that would be. What horrible timing._

_Doing her part to shift the conversation away from Iris’s rudeness – and unaware she was twisting the knife – Linda asked, “Who is she, by the way? What’s her name?” To Iris, she explained, “Barry here met a girl that he said he knows he’s going to marry one day. He’s been pretty smitten ever since, but he won’t tell us a thing about her.”_

_Iris stared at her beer, hoping desperately he wouldn’t say her name. Beyond reason, hoping just as desperately that he would._

_Barry cleared his throat and stammered awkwardly, “O-oh. Well, it’s n-not some big secret or anything. I’m just – I wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to scare her off or – or anything.”_

_“So what’s her name? How’d you meet?” Caitlin pressed. “Come on. You haven’t told us a thing about her.”_

_“Oh. Um. Patty. Patty Spivot.” At his answer, Iris’s breath left her in a whoosh. So she wasn’t the girl he’d been looking for, after all. Apparently, whatever they’d shared that night, she’d been the only one who felt it. She told herself she was relieved, even as she blinked away a sudden urge to cry._

_Ignorant of her inner turmoil, Barry continued, “We, um, we met at the, um, the library. We aren’t officially dating yet. I mean, I haven’t asked her out or anything. I haven’t even gotten to know her that well, yet, really. What if we get to talking and she isn’t the girl I thought she was? What if she turns out to be a huge disappointment?”_

_Iris caught her breath and looked up, her eyes meeting his. He was staring directly at her, and Iris felt herself flush. Downing the rest of her beer, she jumped to her feet. “Well, I’m going to leave you guys to catch up. I think I’m late for my date with the hottie at the bar. I promised to flirt with him this evening, and there’s no point in keeping him waiting forever.”_

_“Really? Are you sure? Maybe you flirted with him and just forgot,” Barry offered mildly._

_“Barry!” Caitlin hissed, her voice scandalized. “Why are the two of you being so rude?”_

_Iris threw him a frosty smile. “Oh, no need to worry on that score. I remember everyone I flirt with. Provided they’re worth remembering, of course.” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she made her way purposefully to the bar. Maybe flirting with a handsome stranger would help her get over her disappointment._

_Why had Barry turned out to be the jerk Caitlin had a crush on? Why couldn’t he have been who she wanted him to be?_

* * *

“Hey, Caitlin. Linda.” Barry paused and then added, a bit softer, “Iris. Sorry I’m late.”

Iris had appeared distracted while he approached the table, but now she replied with a brittle smile, “It’s okay. We’re used to it.” Kara looked shocked as she looked from Iris to Barry and then back again.

Torn between the irritation Iris tended to provoke in him as Barry and his attraction to her when disguised as his alter-ego, Barry decided it was safer to ignore her barb. Turning his attention back to Caitlin, he continued, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you guys talking about?”

“They were just talking about how little things have changed around here,” Kara offered, her voice soft and uncertain, confused by the undercurrents that flowed within the group. “Ah, sorry. I’m Kara. I work with Linda and, uh, Iris.”

Barry threw her a warm smile and introduced himself in turn as Linda added, “That’s right. Just taking a walk down memory lane. Remembering the good old days.”

Iris nodded. “Exactly. Speaking of the good old days, I was just remembering the night we met. It was right here at this bar. Remember, Barry?”

Barry shot her a quick glance. Even after all these years, he still couldn’t believe that she didn’t remember the night they’d met. He would never forget the dance they’d shared. How could it have meant so little to her? His voice was flat as he replied, “Really? Are you sure? I could have sworn we met somewhere else.”

“Um, is everything okay?” Kara asked tentatively.

“Oh, they’re always like this. You get used to it,” Linda replied in an undertone. You just have to let them get it out of their system.”

In her usual attempt to redirect the conversation, Caitlin blurted, “Speaking of the past, whatever happened to Patty? I haven’t heard from her in years.” Turning to Kara, she explained. “You’d have liked her. She was a lot like you. Smart. Funny. Sweet.”

Iris nodded and added in a dry tone, “Oh, she was lovely. Terrible taste in men. But otherwise lovely.”

Barry took the open seat next to Kara and huffed, “And what about Eddie? He seemed like such a great guy. Had the patience of a saint for putting up with Iris. Whatever happened to him?”

He barely heard Linda bark his name, confused when he saw the blood drain from Iris’s face. Lifting a hand to forestall her friend’s defense, she said softly, “No. It’s okay. I probably deserved that. I crossed a line.” Barry watched as she licked her lips and rose shakily to her feet. “Excuse me. I need a refill.”

As she walked away, Caitlin turned to him. “Barry, you’re one of my best friends, but I have to tell you. You can be a real idiot sometimes.”

“What?” he asked defensively. “She can tease me about my college girlfriend, but I can’t tease her about her college boyfriend?”

Linda groaned and sank back into her seat. “He wasn’t just her college boyfriend. They were on and off back then, but they stayed in touch after graduation. Started dating again a few years ago. They even got engaged.” Barry felt his heart sink, dreading what he was afraid he’d hear next. “They broke up a few months ago, shortly before Iris moved back. I don’t know exactly what happened. She doesn’t really talk about it much, but I’m sure it hu-”

Barry didn’t even wait for her to finish the thought. “Excuse me. I need to talk to Iris.” He jumped to his feet and scanned the crowd until she saw of Iris standing a few feet away from the bar. In the bright red one-piece that fit her like a glove, she drew him like a moth to a flame.

He barely noticed the other patrons of the bar as he pushed his way through the crowd, desperate to get close to her. Her head was bowed, and she didn’t move as he approached, but somehow he knew she was aware of his presence behind her. “Iris,” he said in a soft voice. Longing to touch her, his hand hovered over her shoulder. But he didn’t dare. “Iris, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Her soft sniffle broke his heart, and she lifted her hand to her face to brush away a tear before turning to face him. But her gaze stayed locked on his chest as she said in a wooden voice, “It’s okay, Barry. I stopped letting myself get hurt by you a long time ago.”

Barry tensed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She sighed, her shoulder sagging. “It means…nothing. Nothing I say ever means anything. You should know that by now.”

“Iris, please –” He reached for her, but she stepped back, out of reach. Frustrated, he dropped his hands to his sides and then shoved them in his pockets to fight the urge to reach for her again. “What happed with you and Eddie? I know you won’t believe this, but you can talk to me. You can trust me.”

“No, I made that mistake once before.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What happened with Eddie is private. I haven’t even told Caitlin and Linda about it, and they’re my best friends. Why would I tell you?”

“Wait, what? What do you mean you made that mistake before? Iris, talk to me!”

She grimaced and looked away, irritated at herself. “I didn’t – I – Oh, forget it. I’ve probably just had too much to drink. Listen, can you tell the girls we’ll have to reschedule the celebration? I’m not much in a partying mood, and I have to get up early tomorrow anyway.”

“Iris –” Barry tried one last time, but she spun on her heel and walked away.

* * *

Iris was lost in her thoughts as she walked home alone from the bar. It was only when she heard the scrape of a footstep directly behind her that she remembered how dangerous losing focus on one’s surroundings could be in Central City. Spinning on her heel, she shifted her weight to her toes, prepared to run if she could or fight if she couldn’t. But instead of an assailant, she saw the familiar red leather suit. “Flash!” she gasped.

“You know, it really isn’t safe to walk alone at night, Miss West.”

She smiled, relaxing her defensive pose. “I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt it. Can I take you home?” Lifting one hand to her cheek, he brushed away a tear, the leather of his suit surprisingly soft against her skin. “You’ve been crying,” he murmured in a soft voice.

Her hand trembled as she lifted it to cover his. “Old memories. Not all good ones. Reminders of what a fool I’ve been.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being a fool.”

She sighed. “You might be surprised. I fell in love with the wrong person once. Apparently I’m still paying the price.”

Through the vocal cord vibration, it was hard to know for sure, but she could swear his voice was sad as he replied, “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. What I’d really like to do is go home. Will you take me home, Flash?”

Without another word, he lifted her in his arms. A heartbeat later, she found herself back on her darkened balcony, though he didn’t put her back on her feet right away. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she asked, “Flash?”

He turned to face her, his features obscured by shadow, but he seemed uncertain as he asked, “I’m probably crossing a line, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss. Would – would you mind if I kissed you again?”

Iris licked her lips. “I think…I think I’d like that.”

“Close your eyes.” She did so and could feel the moment he stopped vibrating his face to obscure his features. His breath fanned gently across her face as he bowed his head, slowly bringing his lips to hers. Keeping her eyes closed, she parted her mouth, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip, and shivered when she heard his answering moan. Beneath her palms, she could feel him tremble – not to hide his face this time, but in an effort to hold back. Although he had initiated the kiss, he was letting her set the pace. Allowing her to draw the line for how far it would go.

Iris tightened her arms around his neck, wishing she could find a way to pull him even closer. This strange pull she felt towards the Flash was ridiculous. Absurd. She didn’t know who he was. She knew nothing about him. She didn’t even know his name – and hadn’t that ended so terribly for her before?

Yet there was just something about him. She found herself drawn to him and didn’t know why. Although they had just met, there was something about him that felt like coming home. Like she’d been waiting her whole life to find him.

Breaking off the kiss with a ragged laugh, she pulled away and waited until she felt him start to vibrate his features again before she opened her eyes. “This is just…I can’t believe that I’m doing this. I know I don’t know anything about you. A few minutes ago, I was crying over my pitiful excuse for a love life, and now I’m kissing a masked super hero on my balcony. And the thing is, I…I _like_ kissing you.” She blushed, feeling how ridiculous that sounded. She rushed to explain. “I can’t help but feel like there’s some sort of…some sort of _connection_ between us. You know? Please tell me you feel it too. Please tell me I’m not completely out of my mind, because I’m starting to wonder if maybe I am. Am I?”

Flash put her gently back on her feet. Then he moved behind her, whispering in her ear, “It’s not just you. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I held you in my arms, Iris West.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she spun around to ask him if was true. But by the time she turned, he was gone.

* * *

“I told her I loved her,” Barry told his computer screen. He sighed. “I can’t believe I told her I loved her,” he declared to his phials. “Why did I tell her I loved her?” The bottom of his empty beaker provided no more of an answer than any other inanimate object he’d asked that day.

Leaning back in his chair, he speared his fingers into his hair and stared at the ceiling. “She hates me. When she finds out who I am, she’s going to kill me. She’s never going to believe that I was telling the truth. What am I going to do?”

He heard a knock behind him and turned, nearly tipping the chair backwards when he saw Iris standing in his doorway. “Iris!” he yelped, wondering how long she’d been standing there. “Wh-what are you - I-I mean, I wasn’t – I didn’t know you – um, I wish you’d called. I would have – um – how long have you been standing there?”

Iris stared at him warily. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all! I mean, um, _how_ long did you say you’d been standing there, again? Would you say it’s been for very long, or –”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I haven’t been befouling your precious workplace for very long with my presence,” she said caustically. An older cop brushed past her in the hallway, throwing her a strange look, and Iris scowled as she stepped into Barry’s lab.

He swallowed, sagging in relief. He wanted to reassure her that wasn’t what he meant, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to face any further questions. “So…um…why _are_ you here then?” he asked, his tone guarded.

Iris seemed to be clenching her teeth as she replied, “Well, I know I’ve said that I wouldn’t ask you for help if you were the last guy on Earth. But as it turns out, you are apparently the one guy on Earth who knows the most about metas. So I’m here for your help.”

Her spine was rigid as she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “I need you to tell me if there’s anything unusual about this.”

Confused, he took it from her. “What is it?” he asked.

She scraped her teeth against her lower lip. “It’s a page from an autopsy report. I just need to know if you see anything strange about it. Anything that indicates it might have been the result of a meta attack.”

Barry skimmed the page. “I…I have no idea.”

“Forget it,” she blurted, grabbing for a page. “I should have known better than to ask.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her. “You don’t understand. It’s not that I’m not willing to help. It’s just, I can’t tell much from just that page. Even if you think the meta might affect just the heart, there are a lot of factors that go into an analysis. I can’t tell much from just one page of an autopsy report. I need to read the whole thing.”

Iris stopped, though she didn’t turn to face him. She seemed to be waging some sort of internal battle – whether she should take him up on his offer or walk away.

“I want to help you. I do. Even if you don’t believe that, then you should believe that, whatever problems we’ve had between us, I take my research on metahumans very seriously. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

She sighed and pulled her notebook out of her bag. Jotting something down quickly, she spun around and thrust it at him. “Fine. But not here. I’ll give you one chance, but only because I have no other choice. Come by tonight after work, and I’ll show you what I’m working on. But I swear Barry. If you make me regret this…”

He didn’t need her address, of course, but he took it anyway. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

Iris was preoccupied as she jogged down the stairs to the ground floor, wondering if she was making an enormous mistake in trusting Barry again. She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn’t notice her ex-fiance walk through the door until she bumped into him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding out a hand to steady her. “Are you – Iris?”

Iris’s stomach had plummeted the moment she heard his voice. “Eddie. I didn’t – what are you doing here?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I was just transferred. You look…good. What are you – oh. I should have known.” His voice grew hard as he glanced over her shoulder and scowled. Iris didn’t even need to turn around to know what caused his change in mood.

She flinched, knowing what he was thinking.

* * *

_“Hey, is everything okay?” Iris asked, unfolding her napkin and smoothing it over her lap. Eddie had been quiet all evening. Now he was staring at the food the waiter had just placed in front of him, his expression morose._

_“I don’t think I can do this.” Eddie’s abrupt declaration came just as Iris took her first bite._

_“Szechuan? I mean, you chose the place, but if you’ve changed your mind, I guess we can get it to go –” she offered, looking around for the waiter._

_Eddie shook his head. “No, Iris. I mean this. I mean us.”_

_It took her a moment to understand, and then her chopsticks fell to the table, slipping through fingers gone suddenly numb. “I…What do you mean, you don’t think you can – are you breaking up with me? I don’t – I don’t understand. We just sent our wedding invitations. I bought the dress.” Iris shook her head, realizing that her mind was focusing on the wrong details in her shock. She brought her cup of water to her mouth, spilling a little as she started to tremble. “I don’t – I thought we were good! I just – we were just at your mom’s house and – and everything was fine yesterday, so I don’t –”_

_His eyes were sad as he looked up at her and tried to explain. “Do you know what was going through my mind when we were at my mom’s yesterday? How lucky she was. That photo on her mantle? The one of her and my dad? I kept staring at it, thinking how happy they both looked in it. That even though she lost him a few years ago, at least when they were together, she knew how much he loved her. And I kept thinking…I wish I had that.”_

_Iris felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating, so she sucked in a few deep breaths to try to calm down. “You – you don’t think I love you?” she asked tremulously._

_“Not like that. I know you care about me. But you don’t love me like that. Iris –” he reached for her hand, but she jerked away, pulling out of reach. With a sigh, he continued, “Our relationship…back in college, it started as a lie. You didn’t want Barry to know how you felt about him, so you asked if I would mind pretending to go on a few dates with you. And I didn’t mind back then. It was almost funny. But the thing is, it didn’t stay just pretend for me. At some point, it became real.” Staring deep into her eyes, he said sadly, “I don’t think it ever did for you, though. Not the same way.”_

_Iris’s laugh was bitter, her voice strained, as she argued, “What do you mean, it didn’t become real for me? Eddie, I’m_ marrying _you, aren’t I? I love you. I don’t know where this is even coming from.”_

_“And if things had ended differently between you and Barry, if he hadn’t done what he did, can you honestly tell me that we’d be here right now? That you’d want to be my wife?”_

_She flinched, pulling back in her chair, and tried to cover it by crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s a ridiculous question. Things with Barry – what happened, happened. Barry proved who he was, and it wasn’t who I thought. So I moved on. Period. And now I’m with you. I mean, you could ask a million – what if I hadn’t gone to the bar that night? Would we have still found each other one day? What if we didn’t run into each other after graduation, and you didn’t ask me to go to the ball game with you? Would we be together now? Nobody knows what would – I mean, if things had ended differently between you and Monica, would we be together right now? Would you still want to marry me? You can’t know –”_

_“Yes. I would. I_ know _I would still want to marry you. But you can’t say the same.”_

_Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. “Where is this even coming from? Why are you bringing up Barry all of a sudden? It’s in the past! Is it – is this because I don’t want to move back to Central City? Why is this so important to you?”_

_“It isn’t that you don’t want to move. It’s that you won’t tell me why. Is it because of him? Are you worried that you’ll run into him? Is that it?”_

_“No!” she protested, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t the primary reason she wanted to stay away, but she couldn’t pretend that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “That’s – it isn’t like that. I just…I feel like Central City isn’t safe for me. It’s – You wouldn’t understand. I’m not even sure I understand! How can I expect you to?”_

_“Because we’re engaged! We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together! And there’s this big part of your life that you don’t think you can share with me.” She didn’t know what to say in response, so she remained silent as her gaze fell to her lap. “Does he know?”_

_She knew it was coming, but she scowled at the question. For a moment, she considered lying, but Eddie deserved better than that. “Yes,” she whispered. “Barry knows.”_

_“So you could tell him, but you can’t tell me.”_

_“It isn’t like that!”_

_“Iris, you can’t even talk about him! Do you realize you’ll talk about everyone else from college, but the moment his name comes up, you change the subject? You won’t even tell me what exactly happened between the two of you.”_

_“Because it doesn’t matter! It was years ago, and –”_

_“If it doesn’t matter, then why won’t you tell me?”_

_Iris opened her mouth to tell him, but no words came out. Somehow, even after all that time, the wound was too raw, the pain too fresh._

_“See what I mean? I realized last night that I love you, Iris, but I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m a second choice.”_

_“Eddie wait –” she protested as he got to his feet._

_“Iris, I can’t. I’m sorry. I know you care about me, but it’s not – it’s not enough.” Tossing his napkin aside, he muttered, I’ll have my stuff out of the apartment by the end of the week.”_

_Iris couldn’t watch as he walked out of the restaurant. And out of her life. Leaving her utterly alone, once again._

* * *

“It’s not – He’s helping me with a story,” she offered weakly.

Eddie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It isn’t any of my business anymore, is it?”

“Iris…is everything okay?” Barry asked softly as he stepped up behind her. She bowed her head and nodded, and she heard him say in a level tone, “Eddie. It’s good to see you. Been a long time.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Eddie replied in the same tone. “Look, I should go. But, Iris…I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I don’t want you to hear it from someone else. I’ve been…seeing someone. It’s gotten pretty serious. We-we just got engaged.”

Her head snapped up, and she forced a smile. “That’s – that’s wonderful, Eddie. I’m happy for you. Really. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

He shifted awkwardly. “I know. I, um, I should go.” As he moved past, he paused and shot a quick glance towards Barry. “You’re a lucky guy, Barry. And you know the worst part? You don’t even know it. I always kind of hated you for that.”

She didn’t move as she heard Eddie’s footsteps retreat. She didn’t even cry, and somehow that made her feel worst of all. But she could still feel Barry behind her, not saying a word. Finally, he asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Iris swallowed and turned, but she couldn’t force herself to meet his eyes. “I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

He shifted, running his hand through his hair. “You know, if it’s not a good time, I could come by tomorrow instead,” he offered, his voice trailing off.

She sucked in a shaky breath and gave a swift jerk of her head, a desperate denial. But her refusal was firm. “No. Why wouldn’t it be a good time? I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

Later that night, Iris frowned, scanning her reflection with a critical eye. With a huff of irritation, she forced herself to turn away. She hadn’t given this much thought to her outfit when preparing for her job interview with CCPN. After three attempts, she’d finally settled on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt – casual enough to send the impression she didn’t care what he thought, but not so casual that she would feel like he would have her at a disadvantage.

It was irritating that Barry still had this effect on her.

Was it a mistake, trusting him again? But what other choice did she have? Still, she stared at her phone, her finger hovering over the number she’d saved the night she met the Flash. Barry was late to everything; maybe he was still at the office. She might be able to get a hold of him, tell him she didn’t want him to come over after all. Maybe she could find another option, one that didn’t force her to rely on him.

Before she could act on impulse, she heard a knock on the door and stopped in her tracks. Steeling her shoulders, she stepped towards the door. This was her last chance. Was she really going to trust him again?

Did she have any other choice?

Iris sucked in a deep breath and pulled open the door. “Hey, Barry,” she greeted him in a cautious undertone. “I’m shocked! You’re right on time.”

* * *

 _God, she’s beautiful._ He had every line of her face memorized, and yet her beauty always took his breath away. But her coldness towards him as Barry was so at odds with her warmth towards his alter-ego that it took him aback, so he didn’t reply at first. Finally, he replied, “I promised you wouldn’t regret it if you decided to trust me.”

She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Oh, your promises mean something now? Well, that’s good to know.”

Barry rolled his eyes and glowered at her retreating back as she led him into her apartment. “Right. Do I need you remind you that _you’re_ asking _me_ for a favor? Do you always insult people when you ask for their help?”

“No, just you!” she agreed with an insincere smile.

“Why do I even bother?” he grumbled under his breath, looking up in exasperation. “As much fun as it would be to stand here and be insulted by you all evening, can we just get this over with?” When she hesitated, he pressed, “You did still want me to look at an autopsy report for you, didn’t you?”

He watched a muscle jump in her neck as she swallowed heavily. “Right,” she said, turning away from him and sifting through the papers on her table. “Right.” Pulling out a file, she flipped it open and glanced at its contents before snapping the folder closed again.  Rather than hand it over, however, she gave him a dubious look. “Look. I know – I know we don’t like each other. And I know what you think of me personally. But this – I need you to put all that aside and give me your honest opinion when you look at this. I need to know if you think – if the body – if this death was the result of a meta human attack. Okay?”

Slowly, reluctantly, she handed it over, and Barry noticed her hand was trembling as he took it from her. She looked like she’d rather be facing a firing squad than working with him, and, not for the first time, he wondered how so much animosity had grown between them. She’d always given him a hard time, but at one point, sarcastic witticisms had seemed to turn to genuine hate. He’d never understood what had changed, and since she’d taken to avoiding him and refused to even speak to him at that point, he’d never been able to ask.

He almost asked her what had happened to bring them to this place. It was easy to think she’d always hated him, but he knew that wasn’t true. She had trusted him. Once. A long time ago.

* * *

_“How’s the knee?” he asked, handing her a mug._

_She groaned as she glanced at the drink he’d handed her with a laugh. “Hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows? I’d have taken you for a coffee man.”_

_“What can I say, Iris? I’m a man of many sides. I expect there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replied with a grin as he sank onto the sofa next to her._

_“And to think, if we hadn’t called a truce, I never would have seen them.” She smiled and took a sip from her mug. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you cancelled plans to go on the ski trip and pretended to twist your ankle so you could stay with me. You even put me up in your parents’ home. Maybe you aren’t half bad, after all.”_

_Barry feigned a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! My twisted ankle is real, I’ll have you know!”_

_“Oh, really? You were favoring your left leg when you went to the kitchen. You came back favoring your right. Who’s fooling who here, Allen?”_

_“I was – oh.” His laugh was mildly sheepish. “All right. You caught me. I just knew how much you were looking forward to this weekend, and I felt bad that you had to cancel because of your accident. It didn’t seem right to leave you all alone at Christmas.”_

_“Hm. Well. Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you’re a stand-up guy, after all.”_

_He sipped his cocoa. “I’ll try not to let the compliment go to my head. So, what do you say? Can we call a truce? Maybe even try being friends?”_

_“Woah, slow down there! You only gave me five mini-marshmallows. I don’t swear to lifelong friendship for anything less than eight.”_

_Barry leaned in, reaching for her mug. “Well, I’m going to have to fix that then, aren’t I?” he joked._

_Iris caught his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I think I’d like to be your friend, Barry Allen.” A long silence stretched between them as they stared into each other’s eyes, and then she cleared his throat and released his hand. “But, um, given our rather spectacular arguments in the past, maybe we keep this one just between us until everyone gets back from winter break and gets the chance to see it for themselves.”_

_He grinned. “I guess that makes sense. If we told everyone we were friends, they’d probably think we were being held hostage somewhere –”_

_“– and it was our way of letting them know to call the police?” she finished for him, ending with a giggle. “You know, I had the exact same thought…”_

* * *

“I don’t think you have any idea what I think of you, Iris,” he mumbled as he flipped open the file. She gnawed at her lower lip and backed against the wall, forcing herself to stay silent while he read. “You redacted some information I see,” he remarked.

“Just his identifying information. Nothing you need to know to tell if he was killed by a meta.”

He shook his head and continued to read. After a minute or so, he mused, “There’s nothing obvious that points to a metahuman attack. Can you tell me why you think it was anything more than the simple heart attack diagnosed by the coroner?”

“I have my reasons,” she hedged.

Barry flipped the folder closed and glowered at her. “Look, I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you’re going to stonewall me like this. If there’s something that makes you think this is a meta attack, then it’ll help me to know what it is. Sometimes metas don’t leave marks on the body, but there are signs at the scene. Or witnesses reported unusual activity, and that puts us on the right track. So what is it that makes you think this was a meta attack? Was there something at the scene?”

She bowed her head, staring at the ground between her feet as if it would tell her how much she should share. Then she said slowly, “No, not really. The – he died at home. He was found by – by his daughter. No witnesses. No reports of unusual activity. Nothing particularly unusual about the scene, but she said she thought it just felt off, somehow.”

“That’s not much to go on. I really don’t know how I can help you. Nothing in this autopsy report suggests a meta attack. Everything looks more or less normal – well, normal for a middle-aged man with high cholesterol and a couple of gunshot wounds in his past, at least.”

She set her jaw stubbornly and looked up at him. “So there was nothing else strange? Nothing at all?” she pressed.

He shrugged. “Well, the coroner noted there was a little discoloration around his heart, but that’s just not much to go on.” Tilting his head to the side, he regarded her closely. “And you still haven’t told me what made you think his death might have been the work of a meta.”

She returned to her files, grabbing a folder with three documents inside. “Take a look at these.”

He frowned at the top page. “Kevin Neely? Why does that name sound familiar?” he mused as he continued to read.

She waited until he had skimmed the documents before she pressed, “Well?”

His expression was thoughtful as he looked up at her. “Well, the two snapped necks were pretty obvious causes of death. But the third body had strange bruising around his sternum. Not exactly the same, but similar. All right. What’s the connection?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging look. “If the names sound familiar to you, they should. I told you about them once, remember? ‘Do you believe in the impossible, Barry?’”

* * *

_“Can I ask you something?” she asked, her head pillowed against his shoulder. “Tell me the truth. Do you believe in the impossible?”_

_He pondered the question as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I don’t know. As a scientist, I like to think that every mystery has an answer. Even if we don’t understand it yet. But I’d like to believe that there are mysteries of the universe that we’ll never uncover. As we learn more about the world around us, we may learn that nothing may really be impossible. But the impossible makes life interesting, doesn’t it?”_

_“I suppose,” she agreed._

_“So, what about you? Do you believe in the impossible?”_

_She laughed and drew idle patterns on his chest with one fingertip. “Oh, I have a healthy dose of skepticism. But, yeah, I believe in the impossible. I mean, we’re here now, aren’t we?”_

_“Ha, ha,” he replied dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched as he fought a smile._

_“In fact –” she hesitated for a brief second and then continued, “in fact, I know it exists. I’m actually investigating something right now.”_

_“Not a reporter yet, but well on your way, huh?”_

_“Something like that. If I tell you something, promise you’ll keep it a secret? Just between you and me?”_

_“I promise.”_

_“Okay, I know this – um – this cop. He saw something impossible, and I’m going to get to the bottom of what it was. Did you ever hear about the murders of Kevin Neely, Monica Cross, and Derek Peterson? They were officers with the CCPD who died under some…pretty unusual circumstances about eighteen years ago. The press said they were ambushed, and the perpetrator got away. I have reason to believe the truth is a little more complicated. See, one cop survived the attack that night, and according to him… they were murdered by something impossible. He’s been looking for it ever since, and I’m going to help him find it.”_

* * *

“Kevin Neely, Monica Cross, and Derek Peterson. The three cops who were killed under mysterious circumstances over twenty years ago. That’s why their names sounded familiar. So the fourth autopsy. It was –”

She glared at him, her eyes filled with so much bitterness and rage that he took a step back. “That’s right,” she bit out. “The fourth cop. The one who survived. The one who reported seeing something impossible that night. _My father._ ”

* * *

_“Something impossible? What do you mean?”_

_“This cop, he said he saw a man that night. He appeared out of nowhere and killed them with his bare hands.”_

_“Well, that’s a little unusual, but how is it impossible?”_

_“Because when I say he appeared out of nowhere, I mean just that. He wasn’t there one second and he was there the next. According to this cop, he moved – he moved like nothing he’d ever seen before. Is eyes glowed red, and he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.”_

_Barry threw her a skeptical look. “His eyes glowed red? Come on.”_

_“I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth! I swear!”_

_He pondered her words. “Well, it was probably a pretty stressful situation. His eyes could have played tricks on him, I suppose.”_

_Iris shook her head. “It wasn’t a trick of the light or anything like that.”_

_“How do you know?”_

_“Because he’s seen the mystery man since…”_

* * *

“Your father was the cop you told me about? The one who survived that night?” he asked in amazement.

Her hands formed fists at her sides, and she shook with anger as she spat, “Don’t even act like you didn’t know that already. Or don’t you remember your little talk with IA, where you told them everything I had told you that night? Painting him as unstable, trying to get him thrown off the force. Trying to ruin his career, all to get back at me. Do you know how close he came to losing his job? Until the day he died, there were still cops who would look at him like – like he couldn’t be trusted. If it wasn’t for Singh…” She broke off with a sound of disgust. “But you don’t care about any of that, do you?”

Barry shook his head. “No, I didn’t – what –?”

“I thought you were my friend, but you were just playing me the whole time, weren’t you? Did you really hate me that much, that you had to hurt the only family I had to get to me?”

“Iris, I – I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he protested desperately.

“Don’t lie to me! An officer from Internal Affairs came to me about the investigation! Damn it, Barry, _he was my father!_ ”

Her whole body was trembling with the force of her emotion. When tears spilled over her eyes and fell down her cheeks, he tossed the folder on the table and lifted his hands, palms out, in a pleading gesture. “Iris, wait. Please. Can we just – can we talk about this. I can tell that you’re angry, and I don’t know what Internal Affairs told you, but I didn’t – I _swear_ , I didn’t know it was your father, and I didn’t tell anyone what you told me that night. I promise!”

“Oh, you _promise_. What a load off my mind. Just like you did that night? Barry, stop the bullshit. I saw the tape!”

“What tape?” he demanded desperately.

She raced to a police evidence box in the corner and tore it open, digging around until she pulled out a CD and thrust it at him. “All right, if you’re going to keep playing this game, here. See it for yourself. This is just a copy of the original recording, of course, so don’t get any cute ideas. Or didn’t you realize police recorded interviews, even back then?”

He grabbed the CD she pressed against his chest and stared at its blank face with unseeing eyes as he scrambled to make sense of what was going on. “I – wait. Look. Can we talk about this? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who is on this tape, but – but recordings back then weren’t always very clear. If he looked kind of like me then I guess I could –”

She scowled, “Aren’t you forgetting something, Barry? I didn’t need the recording. I didn't want to believe it, when I saw it, but it turned out I didn't have to. You came to me and told me what you’d done, remember? You laughed in my face about it! So if you’re trying to go with some sort of evil twin defense now, I have to tell you, it isn’t going to work.”

“ _What?_ ” he practically screeched. None of what she was saying made sense. He’d never told another soul what she’d told him, and he’d certainly never taunted her about it. But seeing her anger, her hurt, he had no doubt that she believed every word she was saying. Suddenly, her sudden hatred of him all those years ago made total sense – and no sense at all. “I-I never –”

“Get out of my apartment, Barry. It was a mistake, thinking I could trust you.”

“Iris, please.” He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Please, I don’t know what’s going on, but I never told anyone what you told me that night. I didn’t know it was your father –”

“Get out!” she yelled, racing around him to throw open the door. Though he knew he wasn’t getting through to her, he continued to try as he backed through it. “I never tried to ruin his career. I would never do that! I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I meant it that night when I said were friends, and –” 

Iris cut in with a bark of laughter, angry and harsh. “Oh, come on now, Barry. You might have forgotten what you said to me that night – or you’re pretending you forgot, at any rate. But I never will. _‘You didn’t think any of that was real, did you? Like you and I could ever be friends.’_ You were right. I was an idiot to fall for it back then. But trust me, I won’t make that mistake ever again.”

Then, with a sneer of disgust, she slammed the door in his face. Barry stared at the CD he still held for a long moment. Then he raced back home, for once not sparing a single thought or care that someone might see him use his abilities. He had to see what was on this recording. Something had convinced Iris that Barry had betrayed her, all those years ago. He had to see for himself what she was talking about.

But even as he ran, the questions hounded him. Perhaps she could have misidentified an image from a grainy low-quality police interview recording. But she said he’d come to her afterwards and confessed what he had done. It was hard to believe she wouldn’t recognize him when he was standing right in front of her. How could someone have impersonated him so convincingly? Why would they do it?

And how was Barry ever going to convince Iris that he wasn't the man she thought he was?


	6. Chapter 6

Barry leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, groaning when it felt like sandpaper was scraping beneath his eyelids. He was exhausted, and there was nothing more he wanted at that moment than to fall into bed and sleep for a week. But every time he tried, the images on the video Iris had given him played through his mind, tormenting him until he arose and watched the clip again.

It just didn’t make any sense. He had assumed that the video would be of too low quality to get a good view of the informant, but he had been wrong. The man in the video looked like him. He sounded like him. He even had several of Barry’s mannerisms. If Barry didn’t know any better, he’d have been fooled, too.

He’d spent the first two days just watching the video on endless loop, looking for any slip on the impersonator’s behalf, anything to show how he had carried out the ruse. To no avail; nothing on the video suggested the man’s true identity. So Barry turned his attention to running the clip through every software he had at his disposal, trying to figure out if it had been altered in any way. He could hardly claim surprise when this resulted in another dead end. Digital editing technology hadn’t been nearly as advanced when the video was made. If it had been altered, it would have been obvious to anyone with a trained eye. And although technology had improved dramatically since then, there was a lack of opportunity since it had been safely in Iris’s possession over the intervening years.

With a soft groan, Barry turned his attention back to the video, watching the images play out in front of them as if he hadn’t already learned them by heart. He watched closely, hitting pause at the precise moment that “Barry” looked directly into the camera and smirked. It was his only slip over the entire course of the interview; the only suggestion that all wasn’t as it seemed. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but the smug expression in the imposter’s eyes betrayed him.

It wasn’t enough. It didn’t prove that the man an imposter; that Iris’s trust in Barry had not been misplaced.

Of course, that wasn’t the only thing bothering him. “How did he know?” Barry moaned, rubbing his eyes again. The identity of the man on the video was only part of the question. Whoever it was, how had they learned the secret Iris had entrusted him to keep? And why had they used it to drive Barry and Iris apart? Were they driven by a desire to hurt Iris, or Barry himself? Or did they have another purpose entirely?

He had asked himself those questions a dozen times and was no closer to finding any answers. Until he did, he just didn’t know how he could face Iris. How could he explain things to her when he didn’t understand them himself?

His whole body ached, longing for sleep, but Barry leaned forward and hit play on the video again. Looking for answers that continued to elude him.

* * *

A week had passed since Iris’s confrontation with Barry, and she still hadn’t heard from him. Deciding he’d probably decided that her proof was too strong for him to try to refute with lame excuses, she tried to put him out of her mind. This was easier done than usual, with each day that passed without a single glimpse of the Flash. She hadn’t seen him since the night he told her he’d been in love with her from the first time he saw her.

Had he changed his mind? Surely he couldn’t be that fickle. And it was true that being the city’s resident super hero meant he likely had his hands full. Still, she stepped out on her balcony every evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of lightning racing by on the street below. But the streets – and her balcony – remained dark.

Which is why she was taken by surprise one morning when she was swept off her feet on her way to work. One moment, she had been juggling her computer bag, phone, and cup of morning coffee when the screeching of tires nearby caught her attention. She turned just in time to see a car race through a red light, only to be clipped by oncoming traffic. Iris gasped when the driver lost control, sending the car careening onto the sidewalk – and directly in her path. There was nowhere for her to go.

The next second, she had her arms around the Flash’s neck as he placed her gently back on her feet. “Are you okay?” he asked in concern, his hands lingering a moment longer than necessary on her waist.

“Wh-what -? I – oh. Yes. I think so. Thanks to you.” She smiled as she slowly slid her hands from around his neck and stepped back. “Again. You always seem to be there when I need you.”

Even through his voice distortion, she could hear his amusement as he replied in an undertone, “Well, whenever there’s trouble, I always assume I’ll find you somewhere nearby.”

Iris laughed. “I can’t help it if trouble has a way of finding me!” she protested. “Any chance I can talk you into finishing our interview?”

The buildings in the heart of Central City tended to form a wind tunnel, and a sudden gust of wind at that moment whipped around them, lifting a lock of hair off her cheek. The Flash reached out and captured it between his fingers, stroking it gently before tucking it behind her ear. “Maybe,” he agreed before speeding away.

She turned to head back to work, so buoyed by her encounter with the Flash that she didn’t see the pedestrians nearby, recording the entire encounter on their cell phones. When she saw the footage air on the nightly news that evening, the recordings had failed to capture any sound. However, the way they lingered near each other, the tenderness with which he pushed aside her hair, betrayed them. If it had occurred to Iris in that moment to consider the danger inherent in showing the world a glimpse into the Flash’s feelings for her, she might have been more careful. But it wouldn't take her long to realize the implications of that moment.

* * *

“I don’t know which one I want to ask about more. What’s going on with you and Barry? Or when the hell you’re planning on unpacking the rest of your boxes? It’s getting embarrassing,” Linda teased, tucking her legs under her as she leaned back on the couch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Iris said innocently, taking a sip of her beer. “And I’ve unpacked at least three plates. What else does a gal need?”

Linda snorted. “A cup wouldn’t kill you.”

“I’ve been busy!”

“Okay, so let’s talk about what’s going on with you and Barry.”

“I’d rather talk about the plates,” Iris muttered darkly.

Linda rolled her eyes. “I just bet. Spill.”

Twisting in her seat, she took her time in putting her bottle of beer on her side table, using the moment to get her expression under control. “I…like I said, I don’t know what you mean.”

Linda snorted. “Iris, how long have we been friends? Don’t you think I know you better than that by now?” When her lighthearted question provoked no response, her smile fell and she took a thoughtful sip. “Okay, then explain why Barry bailed on Caitlin’s dinner the other night when he found out you were going to be there?”

She waved the question away. “He hates me. What else is new?”

“That. That’s new.” Linda set her beer aside and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Look, I know the two of you have always had a contentious relationship, but he’s never avoided you before. He’s certainly never done it because he claimed it’s what _you_ would want.” A slight crease furrowed her brow as she frowned. “I’m not trying to be nosy. Well, I’m not _just_ trying to be nosy. You’re my friend, Iris. You’re both my friends. Maybe I could help.”

Iris pinched the bridge of her nose and sucked in a deep breath. “That’s just the thing, Linda. You’re my friend, and you’re Barry’s friend. I don’t want to put you in the middle; I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel like you should choose sides. It doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t change anything. I realized a long time ago that Barry has always hated me. Not that it excuses what he…well, not that it excuses anything. And maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe I even deserve his hatred. I didn’t exactly go out of my way to endear myself upon him.”

Linda snorted. “Barry hates you? I find that hard to believe.” When Iris looked at her askance, she pursed her lips. “Okay, don’t laugh when I tell you this. But the thing is, when we were in college, Caitlin and I were pretty sure he had a crush on you.”

Her lips twitched once. Twice. Then Iris threw back her head and let out a deep-throated laugh, collapsing against the arm of the couch. She tried to get a hold of herself, but when she saw the look on Linda’s face, she lost it again, leaning over and wrapping her arms around her waist. Finally, she her laughter faded into giggles, interspersed with tiny hiccups as she fought for air.

“It’s not _that_ funny,” Linda pointed out in a dry tone.

Iris wiped away a tear and sucked in a deep gulp of air. “It’s – it’s a little funny. Barry? In love with me? It’s so ridiculous – I can’t even – what would give you _that_ idea?”

“Caitlin was the one to first suspect. It was just – the way he talked about you when you weren’t around. And the way he looked at you when you weren’t watching. And Caitlin said if she wanted him to come to something, all she had to do is tell him that you would be there and he was almost certain to show.”

She snorted. “Caitlin certainly read _that_ situation wrong. He didn’t have feelings for me. He just liked torturing me with his presence.”

Tilting her head to the side, Linda gave her a thoughtful look. “Do you really hate him that much?”

“Yes! No.” She paused, considering the question. “Honestly, I don’t know. There was a time I thought – well, I thought we could be friends. It didn’t work out, and when I think about why, I get so angry…I think I could hate him. I _want_ to hate him. But there are other times, when I think about the person I thought he was…I was genuinely worried when I heard what had happened to him. Can you really hate someone and care what happens to them?”

Linda seemed to consider the question. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think if there are two people in the world who can find a way to hate each other and love each other at the same time, it’s the two of you.”

Iris tossed a pillow at her. “I already told you he doesn’t love me!” she protested on a laugh.

“And you don’t love him, of course.”

She snorted. “Knowing how he feels about me? I may be many things, Lin, but a masochist isn’t one of them.”

* * *

“I was wondering if I would see you tonight,” she murmured, turning from her position at the balcony railing.

He stepped up next to her. “I saw your lights on. I hope it isn’t a bad time.”

She shook her head. She’d been staring out over the city lights, thinking about her conversation with Linda. And the lie she had told. She knew she shouldn’t feel anything but anger and bitterness towards Barry. She could never forgive him for what he did but every so often, she could forget. And in those moments, she remembered the way he’d made her feel like he genuinely cared about her – like she was special to him – when he blew off the ski trip so she wouldn’t be alone over Christmas vacation. It was in those moments that her heart ached, and she wondered if Eddie hadn’t been just a little bit right about her, when he’d broken things off the way he had.

But she didn’t want to think about her broken heart, not when she had Flash right in front of it. It was strange that a man in a mask would be the first person since Barry to make her feel like she was actually seen. “Of course not,” she murmured. “I missed you.”

She didn’t know who moved first, but the next thing she knew, she was in his arms, her mouth greedy against his. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her hard against his body. “Flash,” she moaned, keeping her eyes closed as she tilted her head back. She wished she could look at him, see the expression on his face while he kissed her. But for the moment, he wanted to keep his identity secret, and she wouldn’t betray his trust.

At the sound of his moniker, Flash moaned, putting her back on her feet. Breaking off the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers and murmured, “I shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t know who I am under the mask. What if you’re disappointed when you find out?”

She trailed her fingers along the line of his mask where it laid over his cheek, her mouth only inches from his. “I don’t care who you are under the mask. I just know I like the way I feel when I’m with you.”

“Still, can we slow down a little? I’m not going anywhere.”

Iris couldn’t stop her lighthearted laughter as she stepped back, needing a little space to clear her thoughts. “The fastest man alive wants to slow things down a little? Should I be touched or insulted?” she teased.

His features distorted once again, Flash replied gravely, “I can’t tell you how much of my day is spent thinking about kissing you. But for once, I don’t want to go too fast. I’m afraid I might hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

The frown line between her brows cleared as Iris thought she realized what Flash was trying to say. She remembered their first interview, how he had admitted he wasn’t sure how fast he could move. He’d become such an integral part of the city since stepping forth as their savior and super hero, it was easy to forget that his abilities were still relatively new. He was still trying to figure them out. She wasn’t scared that he might hurt her if he lost control of his powers in the heat of the moment, but that didn’t mean he shared her confidence.

Still, it implied that she might be the first person he had kissed since getting his abilities. The thought made her blush, and she linked her fingers tightly together to resist the urge to reach for him again. “I understand. I know you won’t hurt me, but we can slow things down until you’re more comfortable with, um, the physical side of things.”

“Um…I…thank you,” he replied. “So what do we do now?”

Iris tilted her head to the side and considered the man in front of her. Music drifted up to her balcony from one of the apartments below, so she held out her hand. 

_“I heard from a friend today  
_ _And she said you were in town  
_ _Suddenly the memories came back to me  
_ _In my mind…”_

It wasn’t the song she would have chosen, but she didn’t want to leave him long enough to turn on her stereo. After a second’s hesitation, he took it. “Now? How about a dance, Flash?” She stepped into his arms, swaying back and forth slowly.

“I thought for sure you’d ask for the rest of the interview I promised you,” he murmured in her ear, pulling her a little closer. 

_“A wounded heart you gave,  
_ _My soul you took away  
_ _Good intentions you had many  
_ _I know you did_

_I come from a place that hurts,  
_ _And God knows how I’ve cried  
_ _And I never want to return  
_ _Never fall again.”_

“Maybe later,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. “For now, I just want to dance with you.” She just wanted to be held in his arms and lose herself in the moment. If only her time with him – and this dance – would never end.

* * *

 

Iris was smiling as she breezed into work the following Monday, still buoyed by her evening spent with the Flash. She was humming a song as she tossed her purse in her desk drawer and headed to grab a cup of coffee. As she waited for it to pour, Mason Bridge yelled her name over the bullpen.

“West! I need to see you!”

She jumped, almost scalding herself with her coffee as she hurried to meet her editor-in-chief. She didn’t think she’d done anything lately to warrant him calling her on the carpet, but she was braced for anything. Mason was notoriously hard to please, and he didn’t sound like he was in a good mood when he shouted her name.

Though she was a bit concerned by his mood, she wasn’t foolish enough to show it. A few steps from his door, she slowed down and made sure she projected nothing but calm assurance when she stepped inside. Once inside, however, she was surprised to see that Mason wasn’t alone.

A man with dark brown hair was seated in an electronic wheelchair, facing towards the door. As Iris stepped inside, he moved forward to greet her. “Miss West. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I knew you had joined our news team, and I wanted to come by and introduce myself.”

“I know who you are, Dr. Wells,” she said in a muted tone as she reached out to shake his hand. “Any chance I can talk you into an interview? I’m curious to know what shifted your interest from emerging technologies to traditional journalism.” Dr. Harrison Wells was former head of S.T.A.R. Labs, resigning his position a little less than a year before the particle accelerator explosion that had created the city’s metahumans. He had caused a bit of a furor a few months before, when his new company, WellsTech, bought out the majority stock of CCPN. For one of her first stories at the paper, Iris had contacted his people to request an interview. He was notorious for being something of a recluse, however, so she hadn’t been surprised when her efforts hadn’t met with success.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t have time for an interview today, but I’d be happy to put something down on the calendar for another time. Would you be kind enough to walk me out? I was so hoping to get to know you a little better. I’ve been following you for years. I particularly enjoyed your exposé on the fraud perpetrated by the former head of the Hart Foundation.”

“Oh. Um. Of course. Thank you,” she replied, grabbing the door before falling into step beside him. “So what did interest a man like you in buying a newspaper? Many people in your field think mine is a relic of the past.”

“Oh, no, Miss West. I always look to the future, and I’m confident that papers like this one still have a vital role to play in making that future a reality. Though I was surprised when I learned you were moving back here. I wonder if a journalist with your pedigree might be bored at the thought of staying in one place. You know, if you’d rather work one of our foreign desks, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Iris bristled and then tried to hide it. She was sure he was trying to be kind in making the offer, and his demeanor wasn’t aggressive in any way. Yet there was just something about him that put her ever so slightly on edge. Moderating her voice, she replied evenly, “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy where I am. For now, at least. There is certainly plenty of excitement here in Central City, if you know where to look for a story.”

“Ah. Like the Flash, I presume?”

She chose her words carefully, not wanting to betray her growing feelings for the man in question. “He is certainly newsworthy.”

They had stopped by the front door, but Dr. Wells seemed to be in no hurry to leave. “I read your interview with him. I’m not a fan of heights, myself, so I can only imagine how terrified you must have been. Until he rescued you, of course.”

Her laugh was light and dismissive. “It wasn’t my top ten favorite moments, to be sure.”

“Well,” he began, turning to the door. As Iris stepped forward to hold it open, he continued, “I can certainly understand the appeal, but if I may offer you a word of advice. Getting close to the Flash could be dangerous. He’s been doing a tremendous job of taking down others like him – people with extraordinary abilities – who don’t have the best of intentions. But that means he’s made some enemies out of some very dangerous people. You could be risking your life, getting close to the Flash, and he may not be fast enough to save you next time.”

One corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk as she replied, “Maybe not, but I’ve gotten pretty good at saving myself, you know. Most of the time.”

“I’m sure you are. But these aren’t your typical bad guys. What we’ve seen so far may just be scratching the surface of what they can do. You might not be able to handle it alone, if a truly evil metahuman gets the idea that the best way to get to him is through you.”

Iris flinched involuntarily, his words reminding her of a conversation she’d once had with her father, many years before.

* * *

_“There are some things I’ve never told you about that night. I hope I’m making the right decision, telling you now. Your mother made me promise not to tell you until you were older. She wanted you to have a normal, happy childhood. She didn’t want you to grow up in fear.”_

_Her stomach clenching at his words and the accompanying sorrow on his face, Iris reached out and grabbed his hand. “What is it, dad? What happened that night that would make me so afraid, you couldn’t tell me sooner?”_

_Joe sighed. “The man I saw that night. He asked about you. Iris…I don’t know how, but he knew about you. He knew you were my daughter. I think that’s why he let me live.”_

_“But – but isn’t that a good thing?” she asked in a tiny voice. At all of sixteen years of age, she often felt fully grown. But seeing the look on his face, she once again felt like a frightened child, reaching for her daddy, wanting him to scare away the monsters in the dark._

_Her father shook his head. “I don’t know. There was something about what he said…I got the feeling that him letting me live wasn’t about me, it was about you. When he talked about you, it was like he was waiting for something. For the time to be right. And when that happens, he’ll try to use me to get to you. Iris, baby, that thought terrifies me. I’ve taken in a lot of bad guys in my day, but I never felt like I confronting true evil until I was face to face with him. If he ever got close to you, if that man ever touched you, it would break my heart.”_

* * *

Clearing her throat, Iris pushed the memory aside. In as firm a voice as she could manage, she replied, “I appreciate the warning, Dr. Wells. But I assure you, I understand the risks. The people of this city need hope, and that’s what the Flash gives them. Telling his story…reminding them that there are real heroes out there…it’s important. If that means I’m putting my life on the line every time I write a story about the Flash, then so be it. I’m willing to take that risk.”

His smile was cryptic as he shot her a look over his shoulder. “You know, I had a feeling you were going to say that. In that case, it was a pleasure meeting you, Miss West. And good luck. I hope your faith in the Flash – and in yourself – is well-founded.”

* * *

Barry sucked in a deep breath, hesitating before knocking on the door in front of him. He was nervous; he knew the reception he was about to receive. But he had no choice.

He hadn’t wanted to go to Iris until he had answers for her, knowing that, until then, his presence would only cause her pain. But he’d tried everything he could think of to figure out the identity of the man on the tape, only to hit brick wall after brick wall. He needed help, and the she was the only person who could help him. She might not believe him, but she was the only person who would be as determined to uncover the truth as he was.

He closed his eyes for a moment, losing himself in the memory of the dance they had shared on her balcony. Sometimes he ached to tell her the truth; he wanted to show her the man beneath the mask. Right now, however, he had no doubt how she would react. She might be falling for the Flash, but she hated Barry Allen. As though to drive home the point, lest he forget, he steeled his shoulders and knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, Iris threw open the door, though her smile fell as soon as she saw who was on the other side. “Oh. It’s you. I thought you were my Chinese food.”

“Ah, no. Just me, I’m afraid,” he replied, forcing a lightness he didn’t feel to his voice. “Though I can run and get you something if you – if you want. I guess.”

Bracing herself against the door, she lifted her eyebrows at him. “No. I’d rather not owe you dinner, thanks.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he remained silent. After a moment, she snapped impatiently, “Barry, why are you here? Are you going to try to sell me some more lies? Because we’ve already been through that, and I’m not interested in round two.”

“No! I mean yes. I mean, I’m not – I’m not here to sell you more lies, but I – it wasn’t me on that tape, Iris.”

She snorted. “Have you watched it? Because if you have, I don’t know why you think you could ever convince me –”

“I’ve seen it,” he broke in. “And I remember what you said that I – that someone who looked like me – came to see you the next day. But Iris…I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.” He could see her disbelief on her face, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion and defeat. How was he ever going to get through to her? He could come to her as the Flash and somehow try to convince her to give him a shot, of course, but he wouldn’t. He already felt guilty about using his alter-ego to tell her things he didn’t dare tell her as himself. He just couldn’t manipulate her like that, not even if it meant convincing her to hear him out.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Is that it? If so, I have some dinner on the way, and I had some things I was going to work on while I waited. Like cleaning my bathroom. I’d really rather do that than have this same conversation again.”

“Wait, no!” he blurted, before she could close the door. “Iris…please. I-I know you’ll never believe me. And I can’t ask you to trust me.”

“Then what do you want, Barry?” she asked wearily, leaning against the doorframe. Her hand braced against the solid wooden panel, ready to slam it in his face to cut off his lies.

But she paused when he continued, “I’m asking you to help me. I know it isn’t fair of me to ask you this, but you’re the only one who can help me. Whoever this is, they stole a piece of my life, and I want to know why. Will you help me, Iris?”

She scowled, her eyes drifting towards the ground. He could swear his heart stopped as he waited for her response. Finally she sighed. “Damn it, Barry. You just had to say that, didn’t you?” It was all he could do to hide his smile of relief when she looked up at him. “All right. I can’t promise I’ll believe you. And like you said, I certainly don’t trust you. But I promise I’ll at least listen.”

She stepped back, gesturing for him to follow her into her apartment. “You’d better come in,” she said in a resigned tone. “You can even have some of my fried rice when it comes. But if you touch my spring rolls, I will end you.”

He ducked his head, smiling, and ran a hand through his hair. He knew had a long way to go, and it wouldn’t be easy to get her to believe that it wasn’t him. But it was a start.


	7. Chapter 7

Barry had spent so much time trying to figure out what he would say to Iris to convince her to listen, he didn’t know what to say to her when she did. Once he’d followed her into her apartment, the two of them stared at each other in silence as he struggled to find the words. Finally, she lifted her arms in a helpless shrug. “So? I’m listening.”

“Right,” he began, fidgeting nervously. “Right. Well, the thing is…I’m not…I’m not sure how to explain what happened. I don’t understand it myself. I just know that the man on the tape? He looks like me, and he sounds like me, but he’s not me. But how is that even possible?”

“You mean, how can he look and sound exactly like you and not be you? Or how could he know something I told you in private? Why would he bother with the charade? What was the point?”

“I don’t know,” he said heavily, bowing his head; she’d put voice to the questions he’d been struggling with himself. If he’d been the Flash back then, it might have made more sense. But it would be years before he’d be struck by lightning and awaken with superhuman speed.

At the thought of his alter-ego, he found himself staring out the glass doors leading to her balcony. He couldn’t help but think about the kiss they shared, feeling increasingly guilty that he’d given in to temptation.

Every time he was close to Iris, he just wanted to hold her. And when he was Flash, he could let himself believe that she felt the same way about him. Of course, she probably did…when he was Flash. But when he saw the accusation in her eyes when she was looking at him now, he couldn’t fool himself into thinking she felt the same way about the man beneath the mask. Bowing his head, he fisted his fingers in his hair. He wasn’t being fair to her and he knew it, using the Flash to get close to her.

The problem was, he loved her. He’d wanted to deny it to himself – and when he was himself, he could focus on the fact that she didn’t love him and pretend he felt the same. But whenever he put on the costume and she looked at him, it reminded him of the night they’d met, when she’d asked him to dance at the fraternity party. All the animosity and bickering that had filled the years between faded away, and he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

He loved her. Even when she was fighting with him. He loved her. How could he keep lying to her? It felt dirty and underhanded. Manipulative. It had been wrong of him to kiss her when she didn’t know his secret identity; he knew that. But he also knew he couldn’t trust himself not to lose himself to the moment enough to do it again.

Before he could think of anything to say, there was a knock at the door and Iris opened it to find her long-awaited Chinese delivery on the other side. He didn’t say a word as she placed the bag on her dining room table. He still couldn’t think of the words as then turned to face him again.

She was the one to finally break the silence that had fallen between them. He could tell she was trying to keep her voice free of accusation as she offered, “Well, we aren’t getting very far, sitting here in silence like this. Aren’t you supposed to be telling me how you’ve never lied to me?”

Keeping his head bowed, he sank onto her couch and said heavily, “That’s the thing, Iris. I have lied to you. Just not the way you think.” Leaning back, he looked up at her with a rueful expression. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He watched Iris suck in a deep breath as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing as she watched him closely. “Iris…I’m the Flash.”

The breath left her lungs with an audible sound. She stared at him with wide eyes before letting out a breathless laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she began. “Y-you’re not –”

Before she could finish the sentence, he rose to his feet, the speed force flowing through him and the rest of the world going still as sped to her dining room table. In less time than a fraction of a second, he’d set the table with the paper plates he’d found in her cabinet and dished out her Chinese takeout. Then he raced to the balcony doors and stopped, watching the moment that the world unfroze.

* * *

Iris blinked when Barry seemed to disappear right before her eyes. One moment, he was sitting on the couch right in front of her. The next, he was gone. She heard a soft sound and turned towards the balcony doors to find him watching her with an enigmatic smile on his face. “You…” she started and then lapsed into silence as she caught sight of her dining room table.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and she realized she’d brought one hand to her mouth in shock.

She felt numb, unsure of how to react, but her bark of laughter was humorless. “For what? For – for keeping the secret? Well, I guess you didn’t owe me the truth. So I guess it must be for the kiss. Or for the other lies the Flash told me.”

She saw sadness in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor, shielding them from view. “I didn’t lie to you. Other than not telling you my identity, I never lied to you.”

She snorted. “Sure you did. You told me you loved me.”

Silence stretched awkwardly – painfully – between them. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice almost too soft to hear as he lifted his eyes to hers again. “Like I said. I never lied to you.”

“I –” she began, stumbling back a couple of feet. She felt like the ground beneath her feet kept shifting, keeping her off-balance. At the very least, she had no idea how she was supposed to react.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, knowing how you feel about me. I just – I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, and I – it’s no excuse, I know. I should have told you how I felt, but, well, I didn’t think you’d ever believe me. And I know none of that excuses what I did, but –”

“I need some time,” she blurted, interrupting his stammered apology. “I just – I know I promised to listen. About the tape. But I-I need to think.”

His face twisted, and Barry turned away from her. “I-I understand,” he murmured. She watched his head fall back as he sighed heavily. “Iris, I really am sorry.” Then, in a blink, he was gone.

Iris sat in silence for a long time. She struggled to come to terms with what she had learned as her long-forgotten food grew cold on the table in front of her. Had he really been telling her the truth, when he said he’d loved her all this time? A day ago, she’d have sworn he didn’t love her. She’d have even bet her life on it. But most of that conviction was based on the video tape – proof of his betrayal. The video tape Barry swore wasn’t him.

Could Barry be telling the truth? But why? Had someone impersonated him to get back at the Flash? That didn’t make any sense; he wouldn’t become Flash for years after that night. She stood and started to pace, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to work things through.

But if it was Barry on the tape, then he had to be lying to her now when he said he loved her. Didn’t he? Of course he did. Because you didn’t betray someone you loved like that. Only…what was the point? He had to know she wouldn’t believe him. What did he have to gain by playing this game with her? He’d already thrown his betrayal in her face once. Taunted her with it, even. He couldn’t possibly think she’d let him do it again.

Maybe he was just trying to make a fool out of her. He’d certainly done that, easily enough. But if that were true, then why let her in on the joke? He could have continued to string her along, laughing inwardly every time she looked at him like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl. On some level, it was still hard to believe that Flash had been lying to her. He’d seemed so sincere – but, then again, so had Barry, back in the day.

Which was perhaps one reason she should have figured out his secret identity sooner. She’d even marveled how Flash had been the first person since Barry to make her feel like he was seeing the real her. God, how easily her defenses had crumbled around him – both now and in the past. She’d sworn to herself that she couldn’t let Barry break her heart ever again, but it had taken only minutes for her to become putty in his hands once more.

And what was she going to do about her feelings for him? She’d spent so many years running from them, she wasn’t sure that she knew how to stop – or even if she should, given that she still didn’t know what to believe. It was easier to deny them when she was convinced he had betrayed her, showing his true colors. But what if he was telling the truth? What if it really wasn’t him on that tape?

The thought brought her full circle, like a hamster running on a wheel. Repetition of the same questions failing to bring her answers.

With sightless eyes, she stared at her pile of investigation notes. Putting personal feelings – and internal conflict – aside, did she really have a choice about what to do next? Once she’d realized that the Flash wasn’t the man she sought, she’d hoped he could shed light on the mystery. When it became clear he didn’t know any more than she did, she’d tried everyone else she could think of before coming to the realization that she would have to turn to Barry Allen for help. Now it turned out that Barry and the Flash were the same person. Did she really have any other option but to ask him for help?

* * *

_“Dad? It’s Iris. Did you forget you were going to meet me for lunch today? Hello? Dad? Is everything okay?” Her heart racing, she let herself into her dad’s house and made her way into the living room. She’d felt uneasy all day, without being able to put her finger on why. When her shout received no reply, her sense of foreboding grew stronger._

_“Dad?” she called again, climbing the stairs towards his bedroom. She told herself that perhaps he’d fallen ill and been unable to call. Perhaps he’d just forgotten they were supposed to meet for lunch. But if that were true, why wasn’t he answering her call now._

_“Dad, are you there?” she asked, throwing open his bedroom door. Empty. She moved down the hall to his study. That was where she found him – face-down on the floor, pieces of paper scattered all around him. Iris heard her own scream as though from a distance as she rushed forward to try to help him to his feet._

_The minute she touched his shoulder, she knew he was gone. He was cold to the touch and didn’t respond, even as she called for him again and again. She struggled to roll him over onto his back, praying that doing so would reveal some sign of life, flinching when he stared up at her with wide, unseeing eyes. Sobbing, Iris reached for his hand, her own knocking a small black notebook out of his grasp. It would take her several minutes to realize it was the same type of notebook he used to use to keep track of his investigation notes, back when he was a detective. He wasn’t supposed to have kept any, so she didn’t recognize it right away._

_Instead, for several long minutes, Iris held his hand in hers. Tracing the veins on the back of his palm, like she remembered doing when she was small. His hands had seemed so huge – so strong – to her, back then. From the time her mother died of cancer when she was little, it had just been the two of them, and he’d been her hero. When she squeezed his large hand with her tiny one, he’d always squeeze back. A silent promise that he was there. That he would always be there._

_She squeezed his cold hand desperately, praying for a miracle. But this time, there was no answering squeeze in return._

_He was gone. She’d never felt so alone._

* * *

She had to find the answers to the questions that had plagued her for years. She had to unveil the mystery behind the man in yellow. Maybe coming back to Central City was a mistake. Maybe all this city would ever bring her was pain. But she couldn’t leave until she knew. And if that meant taking a leap of faith with Barry – and the Flash – then that was what she had to do.

Iris cleared away her untouched food before moving to her balcony and staring out at the city. She ran her thumb along the side of her phone for several long seconds as she pondered what she should do next. Well, there was one advantage to knowing Barry Allen was the Flash. At least she knew how to get in touch with him when she needed to.

_I need to see you._

She sent the text to Barry’s phone before noticing the time. It was after midnight; there was no way he was still awake. She would probably need to wait until the following day to talk to him. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

When she turned, however, she found the Flash behind her. Though he was still standing in the shadows – she’d forgotten to turn on her balcony light – he was standing perfectly still.

“Oh,” she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. “I-well, I guess it probably sounds stupid, but I wasn’t expecting you to respond so – so fast. This – knowing who you are…it might take some getting used to.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, Iris.”

She shrugged and looked away, her eyes burning with a sudden desire to cry. “Why would you? I understand why you didn’t trust me with the truth. I can’t say I blame you. You’re putting a lot of faith in me now, knowing how I feel about – well, after seeing the tape, at least. Part of you had to be scared I’d see it as the biggest scoop of the century.”

He moved up to the railing beside her, though he was careful to keep a distance of a few feet between them. “I never really thought about it,” he admitted. “I was scared to tell you the truth, but it was never because I thought you’d reveal my secret.”

She still couldn’t look at him. “Yeah? You must have a lot of faith in me, then. And, honestly, I can’t imagine why you would. Not with our history. Hell, I doubt even Eddie had that kind of faith in me, and we were engaged.”

“He was an idiot, you know.”

“But that doesn’t mean he was wrong about me.” Part of her wanted to hold her secrets tight to her chest. Just because Barry had shared his secrets didn’t mean that he was entitled to hers. She was angry that he’d kissed her under false pretense, and she had thought he had betrayed her for so long, she still wasn’t sure that she believed him now when he said he didn’t. But telling her the truth about his secret identity had been an act of faith. Of trust. Whatever the impetus for his confession, if they were going to try to work together, trust had to go both ways. At the very least, she had to try.

Her hands forming fists on the railing, she gathered her courage and kept her attention focused on the city lights as she asked, “Why did you tell me the truth tonight, Barry? Out of guilt?”

He was quiet for a moment as he pondered her question. Then he pushed back his cowl so she could see his face. “In part. I shouldn’t have kissed you the way I did, knowing how you feel about me. But I also…I wanted you to see the man beneath the mask. I’m tired of lying to you about who I am and – and how I feel.”

She nodded and started tracing patterns on the concrete railing. “Do you think it’s possible to be so hurt by someone, so angry, that sometimes you think you might hate them…and still wonder if you may love them more than you could ever love anyone else?”

“Um, I'm not –” he began.

She turned to face him. “The truth is, Barry, that I was hopelessly in love with you back in college.”

The look of shock on his face would have been comical under other circumstances. “You – you were? But…you…I thought you hated me!”

“I did! Eventually. After that Christmas. But before then, I…I liked you. But I was scared that if I told you that, someone would get hurt.” She winced. Even after all this time, telling Barry about Caitlin’s feelings felt like it would be a betrayal. “That I would get hurt.” It was a half-truth. She looked down at her hands. “I handled it pretty badly, I know. I told myself you were a jerk and I was doing the right thing, pushing you away.”

“Iris…why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I tried. Once. And, well…you stood me up. After that, I lost my nerve.”

“Wait,” he blurted. “ _That_ was why you…oh my god…” he ended on a moan. “I didn’t mean to… If I’d realized, I would have…”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter. Who knows if I would have found the courage to tell you that day? I chickened out every other time. Until that Christmas, when we agreed to a truce. After that…I’d been telling myself that you were a jerk to keep you at a distance, but I realized it wasn’t true. So I swore to myself I’d explain why I kept pushing you away. I’d tell you how I felt about you. When you came over that day, I almost did, only…instead of a confession, I got…”

“The video tape,” he finished for her in an undertone.

She gave a jerky nod, fighting back the tears, feeling the pain of that revelation as if it was yesterday. “You – you seemed so pleased with yourself. You’d finally put me in my place. And if it had just been me, maybe – maybe I could have believed on some level I might have even asked for it. But to go after my father…he was all I had. Hurting him to get to me…I could never forgive that.”

“Iris, it wasn’t –” he began, his voice soft. He reached for her, but she shook her head and moved out of his reach.

“No. Don’t – I know what you’re about to say, but I need you to hear this. Watching that video…it broke my heart. I don’t know how I feel about you now. I just…I don’t know. I’m angry about the past. And I guess about the kiss. I haven’t really…I don’t really know what to think about that. I know I’ve been so angry and so hurt for so long; I don’t know how to process all this yet.” She paused and lifted a hand to her forehead, rubbing the space between her brows.

“I want to believe you, when you say that wasn’t you on the tape. And that scares me, because I wanted to believe in you before, and look where that got me. Maybe I even want to believe you when you say that you – that you care for me. That scares me even more. Because I don’t want to put myself in a position where you can break my heart like you did before. Part of me wants to cut you out of my life, tell you I never want to see you again. I loved you for so long…and then I hated you for so long. And now I just don’t know how to feel.”

“So where does that leave us?” he asked, turning to look out at the city himself, as though he wanted to hide his face from view. “Now that you know…whatever you choose to do next…If you tell me to leave and never come back…If you decide to reveal my secret to the world…I understand. I won’t try to stop you.”

She sighed and stepped up to the railing next to him, turning her attention to the city lights. “I need to get to the bottom of what my dad saw that night. I need to know that what happened to him…that his death wasn’t connected. I can’t do it alone. If I could, I would.” She waved her hand in a helpless gesture. “You’re the only person who could help me. So I guess I really don’t have any other choice.”

She fell silent until he turned to look over at her. “I need your help. You need my help. Why don’t we just focus on that? I can’t…I can’t promise…I don’t know what to make of that tape. There are just so many questions, so many things that don’t make sense. Then again, if it was you, then I don’t understand why you’d risk telling me your secret identity. So I don’t know what to believe. But I promise I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

“And…and what about…what about the rest?”

Scared he was referring to the feelings they had both confessed to, she shook her head. She wasn’t ready to face those yet. She didn’t know what she’d do with them if she did. Did she love him or hate him? She didn’t know. “We focus on the task at hand. The rest is just a distraction.”

He heaved a heavy sigh. “Okay. Where do we start?”

She nodded toward the open balcony door. “There’s more I should tell you about what happened that night, when my dad saw the man in yellow. We might as well get comfortable.”

* * *

_The man in yellow watched as Officer Joseph West and three other officers approached the building, guns drawn. It had taken three minutes from the time the alarm was triggered to their arrival – a span of time that, for a speedster, felt like an eternity._

_He watched as Joe turned to signal to his partner before making his move. He smiled when his hand, vibrating fast enough to phase his molecules, went into the officer’s chest. The heart shuddered in his grasp – once, twice, before going still. He had already moved behind the second officer before the first one’s body hit the ground._

_Though he would have preferred using his usual method of attack, he grabbed the officer’s head and twisted hard, smiling when his neck broke with an audible snap. He killed the remaining officer the same way, wanting that sound to echo in the darkness around him. He wanted the survivor to dream of that sound at night, knowing the nightmare that lurked for him in the shadows._

_Joe turned with a soft sound of confusion, but the man in yellow was there before he could take a step. Though it was unnecessary, he vibrated his features to obscure them from view. One never knew when a little anonymity might come in handy in the future. “Good evening, Officer West. Tell me…do you have a daughter?”_

_The question had the desired effect. Joe’s finger tightened on the trigger, firing one shot after the other until the clip was empty. He avoided the bullets easily; but he liked the thought that he was giving Joe a sense of his own unimportance. His own helplessness. The sound echoed around them, the report deafening, and he waited until it faded before shoving his vibrating hand through Joe’s chest. It wasn’t the time to end his life. Not yet. He just wanted Joe to know, every morning he awoke after this one, it was only because he had allowed it._

_He watched the fear in Joe’s eyes grow as he continued, “How old is she now?” Of course, he knew how old she was. It was the whole reason he was here. In this time. He could picture what she would look like now. It wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world to kill her._

_But that wasn’t what he was doing here. For years, he had tried to find a way to kill the Flash. He’d been thwarted at every turn. Even traveling to the past and killing Barry’s mother when he was a child had only put him in a situation where he had to create the hero he despised. As unlikely as it sounded, he’d come to realize that the speed force itself wanted Barry Allen to become the Flash. Maybe it even loved him. That didn’t stop the man in yellow’s determination to kill the Flash; it just made him realize he needed to get creative._

_In the past, he’d found that there was no point in attacking Iris directly. The Flash would always find a way to be there, just in time to save her. Even attacking her before Barry got his abilities was futile; if the speed force was protecting Barry, it seemed to be working equally as hard to keep her safe. Was it because it loved her as it loved Barry, or simply because it recognized how vital she would one day be to the Flash? He didn’t know, and with any luck, it wouldn’t matter._

_“Stay away from my daughter!” Joe yelled – his voice surprisingly unwavering, under the circumstances._

_“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to kill her. Yet.” He doubted it would work, but if that was what it took to kill the Flash, then he would try. If it came to that. But perhaps with his current plan, that would be unnecessary._

_Joe demanded, “Why are you doing this?”_

_The man in yellow smiled. “It isn’t personal, if that makes you feel any better. You may not believe this, but I actually like Iris. But if you want to kill a man, you break his body. If you want to destroy him, you break his soul.”_

_He didn’t plan to kill Iris. He doubted he would succeed if he tried. The speed force made sure of that. But he’d been planning for years, and he thought he could use her against the Flash. Cause a rift between Barry Allen and Iris West. He could prevent her from becoming the Flash’s lightning rod. He could use her destroy his arch-nemesis._

_There would be no Flash without Iris West._


	8. Chapter 8

Barry sat in silence as Iris told him the story of her father’s first meeting with the man in yellow, just as he had once told her. When she was finished, he scratched his cheek thoughtfully. Her story had caused him no small measure of alarm on her behalf, but he tried to hide his reaction. He doubted he’d be able to give up her quest for her own safety, anyway. “I can understand why you’re determined to track him down,” he said slowly. “So, how were you planning to find him?”

She scowled, dropping into a chair. “That’s the thing. I thought he was you. The Flash, I mean. It never occurred to me that there might be two speedsters running around the city.”

“How did you know it wasn’t me?” Barry asked. “I mean, it’s not. But how did you know?”

Iris shrugged. “Dad swore he got a glimpse of his face once and said he looked older. In his forties at least. And that was years ago. The Flash was too young.”

Tapping his fingers on his knee, he asked, “He said he liked you, but you were a child back then. That’s weird, isn’t it? Did your parents think they’d met him before? Somewhere public, like a park or the grocery store or something?”

She shook her head. “No. That struck my dad as strange, too. But he swore the man in yellow didn’t look familiar. My mom never saw him, but she said he didn’t sound like anyone she remembered.”

“Hm,” he grunted. “Do you have a piece of paper? I want to jot down some notes. Helps me keep my thoughts in order. Also, do you have a list of possible sightings since the particle accelerator explosion? I might be able to help you narrow them down.”

“Sure.” She jumped to her feet and rifled through a pile of papers on the table before pulling out a slim notebook and pen. After handing it over, she turned her attention to her notes on possible sightings. As she spread them out over the table, she asked, “What are you writing?”

“I thought it would be helpful to make a list of questions. We may not have enough information to answer the big ones – like who he is and why he targeted you – but maybe it’ll help us identify the next steps in the investigation.”

She paused at the implication that they would be conducting the investigation together, but after a second, she continued laying out her stack of papers without comment. “Okay, I’ve laid out all the sightings that seemed remotely credible. Want to take a look?”

Barry stood and moved to stand beside her. A second later, he handed her several pieces of paper. “Well, we can rule these out. I’m pretty sure these were all me, before I made my suit.” At her mild look of surprise, he explained, “Ah…I read fast.”

“Um…okay,” she replied, setting the stack aside before gesturing to several other pieces of paper. “What about those? I thought those might have been the Flash, but they happened when you were in the coma.” She paused, then asked softly, “You were in a coma, right? That part was true?”

He nodded. “That part was true,” he answered in an equally soft tone.

“I’m sorry. I-I really am glad you’re okay.”

He shifted his weight, a nervous gesture, and lifted a few more sheets of paper off the table. “These weren’t me, but I’m not sure they sound too credible, either. They seem more like coincidence than the work of a speedster. I’m not sure about the others, so I think we should keep them in a ‘maybe’ pile for now.”

“I agree.” She pointed to the rest of the papers on the table. There weren’t many left. “But those were definitely the man in yellow.” Tilting her head to the side, she considered the accounts in front of her. “Have you heard of any other metahumans from before the particle accelerator explosion?”

He frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. “I haven’t,” he admitted. “Every meta I’ve met got their powers that night. Including me. Where did his powers come from?”

She shrugged. “Why me? If he was after me now, I could kind of understand why. It could be because of one of my stories, or because I know the Flash. But I was a child, and it was long before you got your powers. Why me? Why target a child? And to keep that obsession over decades…” Her comment trailed off as she yawned widely, and it was then that he noticed the time.

“It’s late,” he remarked regretfully. “Can I have copies of these? I want to look into them some more.”

Iris nodded. “Take those. I have copies on my computer. You’ll see some predated the explosion, but there have been a few sightings since. Not all of them connect to me, as far as I know, so I started with those. I’ve been doing some digging online, trying to figure out if there’s something that connects them. Or if anything unusual happened at those locations.”

Barry considered one of the items in question. “Well, this sighting happened outside the Central City Hospital.”

“That’s where the victims of the particle accelerator explosion were taken.”

He threw her a wry smile. “I’m aware. You think he’s interested in one of them?”

Iris shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not much to go on, but it’s something. The thing is, I don’t know the identities of everyone who was injured in the explosion. Privacy laws and all that. I’ve been investigating, but…”

“Maybe I can help. We should have police reports from the investigation following the explosion. I can see if anything turns up.”

She paused, considering his offer. Finally, she agreed, “I…would appreciate that. Thank you.”

Barry smiled. “Give me a couple days. I’ll see what I can do.” Scooping up the papers, he turned to the door. “I just –” he broke off, uncertain how to continue. “Good night, Iris.”

“Good night, Barry.”

* * *

Barry sat at his desk, staring blindly at the file in front of him. He was supposed to be testing evidence collected from a crime scene, but he was distracted, unable to stop thinking of the list of dates and locations he’d compiled from the papers he’d borrowed from Iris. A few had general times, but nothing terribly specific.

He halfheartedly flipped through the pages in the file before setting it aside once more. With two fingers, he caught the edge of the paper and slid it out from under the stack of folders. Dates and locations. They didn’t tell him much.

What was the man in yellow after? Why was he focused on Iris? Was he somewhere in the city right at that moment? Lurking? Gearing up for some sort of attack against Iris? If so, why wait so long? Barry wasn’t eager for her to be put into danger, of course, but if the man in yellow was determined to hurt Iris, he was certainly playing a long game.

And when he talked about breaking someone’s soul, who did he mean? Iris’s dad? Or someone else?

There were so many questions, and no amount of staring at this list provided ready answers.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear the knock on the door. “Barry?” He turned at the sound of his name to find Caitlin standing behind him, the look on her face making it clear that it hadn’t been the first time she’d tried to get his attention. “Everything okay? You were pretty lost in thought there.”

“What? Oh…yeah. Sorry. I’m just…working on a case. What’s up?”

She smiled. “I had a little free time this afternoon. Thought I’d see if you were free for lunch.”

“Ah…sure. Give me just a second. Let me lock up some of this evidence.” Barry forced himself to focus on the task at hand, knowing a slip in the chain of custody could compromise an entire case.

As he turned to lock up some samples in the cabinet, Caitlin approached the desk. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the list he’d been mulling over earlier.

He spun on his heels, fighting back the urge to speed over and snatch it from her hands. It seemed odd to be so protective of Iris’s investigation, but it also wouldn’t do to act rashly and reveal his secret. “Oh…ah. Just an investigation I’m working on. With Iris.”

“You’re working with Iris?” she repeated, looking up at him in surprise. “Without killing each other?”

His laugh was a little forced as he ran a hand through his hair. “More or less. Anyway, I told her I’d look through some police files. See if there was anything important that happened at those locations on those dates.”

“Hm.” He stepped forward and tried to think of a way to gently take the paper from her when she made a soft sound, almost like a chuckle. “That’s funny.”

His hand froze in mid-air. “What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” Something in his expression must have caught her attention, however, because she continued, “I mean, it’s nothing important. It’s just…it’s a coincidence, I’m sure. But, um, look at the third entry down.”

He took the paper she held out to him and scanned the list. The third entry down near the university campus, but the date didn’t mean anything to him. “Yeah?”

“Recognize it?” she prompted.

Barry shook his head slowly. “It’s by campus, but –”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “It’s by the campus bookstore. That’s the day we met. Kind of funny, isn’t it? I don’t remember anything major happening around there that day, but –”

“Wait. Are you sure?” He demanded, scanning the list one more time. When she broke off with a mild look of surprise, he pressed, “ _Are you sure?_ ”

“Yes! Of course I’m sure! I remember the day because I moved to campus the day after my mother’s birthday, and we had –”

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I have to go,” he blurted, shoving the list in his pocket. “I’ll – I’ll call you later, okay? We’ll grab lunch another time.” Before she could say anything else, he was out the door.

* * *

_He watched as Barry followed the brunette into the bookstore. He’d been plotting the next step in his plan, and it seemed like fate was, for once, on his side. Could it really be this easy?_

_He knew it wouldn’t be easy to find a way to separate Barry and Iris, to keep them from falling in love, to prevent her from becoming the Flash’s lightning rod. The speed force would likely be working against him. For that reason, he didn’t dare try the direct approach. Attack her directly, and he had a feeling that the speed force would intervene. Chip away at Barry and Iris bit by bit, destroy the foundation of what they would one day become, and he just might succeed._

_The first step was to put an obstacle between them before they could even fall in love. He hadn’t been certain how he would do it at first, but then he saw her. Caitlin Snow._

_She was younger than he’d ever known her. More carefree. But he could only hope that the Caitlin in this alternate reality he’d created wasn’t entirely unlike the woman he’d known. The Dr. Caitlin Snow he’d known – and manipulated – had been emotionally fragile. After losing the love of her life, Ronnie Raymond, she’d been adrift. Lonely. Easily manipulated. Eager to cling to the first handsome face that came along._

_Now she might not be grieving the loss of her fiancé, but she was new in town. Just about to embark on a new adventure. Alone. Friendless._

_Maybe, like her counterpart in another timeline, she’d be eager to cling to the first handsome face that came along._

_Of course, that didn’t mean Barry fall for her. In every world, in every time, in every reality, his heart seemed to be waiting for Iris. But the man in yellow didn’t need Barry to fall in love with Caitlin – or anyone else, for that matter. It was just another tiny piece of his overall plan._

_He lifted the collar of his coat, having left his yellow suit at home for now, and saw Caitlin glance behind her. A slight frown creased her brow when she noticed him. She flushed and turned away when he smiled at her in return. Oh, yes. This was going to be almost too easy._

_Chip, chip, chip._


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Harrison Wells - as he was currently known - had just been handed his coffee when he turned to leave and saw Iris breeze through the door to the coffeeshop. He saw her notice him, then her gaze darted away for a second like she was debating whether or not to pretend she hadn’t. After just a second, however, her eyes travelled back to his, and she smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. He had to hide his smirk. It was just like another Iris he had once known – smart enough to not entirely trust him, but too brave to run and hide.

Anyone who was watching would think she was delighted to see him as she approached. “Dr. Wells! What a pleasant surprise!” she greeted him brightly.

“I didn’t expect to find you here, Miss West," he replied truthfully. "But they do have the best coffee in the city, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Can I buy you something?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. That’s okay. You’ve already got yours. I don’t mean to hold you up; I just wanted to come by and say hi.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m not –”

But before he could continue, the cashier let out a yelp of surprise and fear, and two men stepped away from the counter, brandishing guns. They were both wearing ball caps and large sunglasses, which obscured their faces. “Just hand over the money, lady, and nobody needs to get hurt!” one barked at the terrified cashier.

He could practically smell the fear radiating off the shorter of the two as his head whipped around, taking in the startled patrons milling around the shop. “E-everybody down! Get down on the ground!” he yelled, his voice high and strained. When nobody moved, he pointed his gun at each of them in turn. “I said get down!”

Harrison had to fight back the desire to laugh. These two men were like insects fleeing from a shadow, with no real awareness of the danger they were in. It would be so easy to end their lives. His hands clutched at the arms of his chair as he imagined twisting their necks until he heard that tiny crack that meant their deaths. He could be gone and back in his chair in a fraction of a second, before anyone even knew he had moved.

But then Iris put her hand on his shoulder, reminding him of her presence. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured in an undertone. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” When she twisted to shield him with her body, he settled back in his chair, curious to know see she’d do.

“I said get on the floor!” the robber yelled, his voice shaking as he turned the gun on them. “Get down or I’ll shoot!”

Iris scooted around his chair and bent, pretending to try to lift him. Her lips just inches from his ear, she whispered, “Follow my lead.” Then, in a louder voice, she cried, “N-no, please! P-Please don’t shoot! Can’t you see he can’t get down on his own? I-I’m trying –” She finished on a little sob of fear, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to hide his smile. She was good. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear her fear was real.

The robber’s hand trembled as he watched the two of them. He shot a glance at his partner, but he had leapt across the counter and was busy shoveling money into the backpack he’d brought with him. The robber shifted his weight uncertainly, then nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll help. But don’t try anything.”

The robber approached the two of them slowly. As Iris continued to pretend to struggle to lift him out of his chair, he saw the robber throw an uncertain look between the chair and his gun. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. Slipping the gun in his waistband, he bent to wrap an arm underneath Dr. Wells’s supposedly useless legs.

Iris took the opportunity to act. Wells jumped in mild surprise at the sound of bone connecting with bone as she punched the robber in the face, knocking him off-balance. As Wells wrapped one arm around the robber’s neck, she snatched the gun out of his waistband and straightened, pointing it at the second robber. “Hold it right there,” she demanded in a firm tone. Wells watched as the second robber dropped his chin, looking to the gun he’d set aside to load up the money from the register. “I wouldn’t try it,” she said firmly. “My dad was a cop. You may think you’re fast, but my bullet will be faster.”

As the second robber dropped his backpack and raised his hands in surrender, she called out loudly, “Now, would someone be kind enough to call the police?”

Behind her, he finally gave in to temptation and laughed, though he didn’t loosen his hold on the robber’s neck. “Oh, well done, Miss West. Well done.”

But his amusement was short-lived. When the police arrived on-scene a few minutes later, Dr. Wells could finally release the robber – though he’d been tempted to tighten his grip just a little bit more until he squeezed the life out of the other man. To think that someone so small and insignificant could try to get the better of him.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as he reminded himself it wasn’t the time to reveal himself in front of Iris. Then Barry Allen raced in. Wells watched as his eyes darted around the room, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw Iris by his side, giving her statement to one of the officers. When Wells looked up, he saw the little flicker of a smile cross her face as her eyes met Barry’s across the room. For just a moment, the two of them looked pleased to see each other.

Though they masked their reaction quickly, their smiles replaced by masks of indifference, Wells felt his hands form into fists in his lap. After all his work, all his planning, his many efforts to put distance between the two of them, how could they have found each other again? How _dare_ they find each other again?

His gaze dropped to her neck as he imagined feeling it snap under her hands. He liked her – even admired her – but that wouldn’t stop him. One little twist, and he could destroy his arch-nemesis, take away the thing he loved the most in this world. In every world. And, much to his frustration, in every time, it seemed.

But he couldn’t do it yet. Not with the Flash standing a few feet away. It wasn’t the right time to tip his hand. So instead, he forced himself to relax. He was playing a long game; it wouldn’t do to act rashly now.

Barry stood by as Iris finished giving her statement to the officer, then he approached. “Hey, Allen,” the officer, Brooks, greeted him. “You know, this is a pretty clean-cut case, and I think we have everything we need. We don’t really need a CSI on this one.”

“Yeah, but you know how Singh is. He likes to have his bases covered.” As Brooks walked away, however, he turned to Iris with concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? I was on my way to see you when I heard about the robbery. You didn’t really punch out a robber, did you?”

She grinned. “Not exactly. I mean, I punched him, but I didn’t knock him out. I had a little help subduing him, thanks to Dr. Wells here.”

“It was my pleasure,” he murmured. “Though I admit I’m a little disappointed the Flash didn’t show up to save the day. I was hoping to meet him. I guess he was just a little late this time.”

He saw Barry shift his weight awkwardly, then he saw the glance Iris and Barry exchanged. His jaw clenched. So. Not only were they coming together again, but she knew he was the Flash? Clearly he was going to need to rethink his strategy. “Oh, that’s okay,” Iris interjected in an undertone. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing for a girl to be her own hero every once in a while.”

“Well, if you both will excuse me, I’m late for an appointment. I should make sure that the officers don’t need anything else from me before I go. It was nice to meet you, Mr.…?

“Allen. Barry Allen,” he replied, holding out his hand.

“Harrison Wells,” he said in turn, shaking Barry’s hand. Then he turned to look up at Iris again. “Miss West, you were certainly telling the truth when you said that you’re good at getting yourself out of trouble. Thank you for letting me be part of your plan. I can’t remember the last time getting a cup of coffee was this exciting. This wasn’t your way to talk me into giving you an interview, by any chance, was it?” he teased gently.

She laughed. “I’m not quite that conniving, Dr. Wells…unless it worked, of course.”

He chuckled. “Maybe another time. I’ll see you around, Miss West. Mr. Allen.”

Giving them a nod goodbye, he wheeled past them on the way to the door, resisting the urge to look behind him to see if they continued talking in his absence. It occurred to him that Iris had quickly masked her relief to see him. Perhaps that meant it wasn’t too late. If he acted quickly, he could perhaps scare her off before her relationship with Barry got out of hand. And if not…

Well, if not, the speed force could try to protect her, but even the Flash couldn’t be everywhere at once.

* * *

“So, were you telling the truth earlier, when you said you were on your way to come see me when you heard about the robbery?” Iris asked as Dr. Wells left.

He nodded. “I was, but this isn’t the place to talk about it. Maybe I can come over later and go over it with you?” At her nod, he said, “Anyway, that isn't important right now. Are you sure you’re really okay?” He ached to touch her, to know for himself that she was okay, but he didn’t dare. Even though she was willing to talk to him now, he didn’t dare push his luck. Still, his hand twitched as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I should have –” he paused and glanced around at the crowd of people milling about. “Well, I wish the Flash had been here to help.”

There was warmth in her smile as she reassured him. “I’m fine. Like I said, I don’t mind saving myself every so often. Reminds me that I can.”

“Still. The thought of what could have happened…” He sighed, but he tried to keep his voice light and teasing as he added, “I know you like to be in the thick of trouble, but just once, I wish you’d take the path of least resistance.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper as she replied, “Says the man who rushes into danger in a bright red suit.”

He grinned. “That’s not really the same thing, and it's not _that_ bright. But are you sure you’re okay? Because I can bring my mom over later and have her check in on you if I need to –”

“That’s not necessary!” she blurted in mock fear. “I’m totally fine, I swear! You can see for yourself!” But she laughed, even through her protest. Lifting one hand to her face, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. Her laughter died at his touch, though her eyes remained locked on his.

* * *

_“Oh, dear. What happened to your ankle? Are you okay?” Nora Allen asked as Barry helped Iris up the front steps and through the door._

_Iris grimaced in response to a stab of pain, but she forced her voice to remain light as she replied reassuringly, “I’ll be okay. It’s just twisted, I think.”_

_“Have you had a doctor look at it? Henry, would you examine her ankle? Barry’s father is a doctor. You really should let him look at it, make sure it isn't more serious.”_

_“I’m sure that’s not necessary!” Iris protested. “I'm already imposing, with Barry inviting me over at the last minute. I don't want to make it any worse –”_

_Barry chuckled and murmured in her ear, “You might as well give in now. My mother is both tenacious and a worrier. She’ll hover and fret until you let her have her way.”_

_“I will not!” his mom protested, even as she shot a look at her husband. “But, really, you should let Henry look at it. It doesn’t hurt to be sure…”_

_“All right. I’m sure it’s not necessary, but I appreciate the offer,” Iris conceded with good grace._

_Henry moved around his wife to gesture at the couch. “Barry, do you want to bring her in here?” Turning his attention to Iris, he said reassuringly, “It’ll just take a minute for me to get a look and put my wife’s mind at ease. In the meantime, Barry can bring in your things.”_

_“Thank you. I appreciate you letting me stay on such short notice. I feel like I just keep imposing…”_

_He scoffed and joked, “A twisted ankle isn’t an imposition. If it’s broken, on the other hand, we’ll just have to toss you onto the street. We can’t have you ruining Christmas with broken bones.”_

_“I’ll bear that in mind,” she replied on a laugh._

_As he examined the ankle, he asked, “So, how did this happen? My son tells me that you’re an aspiring journalist with a tendency to get yourself in trouble. Chasing after a good story?”_

_“Does he?” she asked in surprise, looking up to meet Barry’s eyes. “I didn’t think he would have mentioned me at all.”_

_Barry blushed. “Um…like my dad said, I should…um…go get your things.”_

_Henry continued, “Not to worry. He made you sound very brave, I assure you. I didn’t realize journalists led such dangerous lives.”_

_“We don’t always,” she replied as Barry headed towards the door. “But the danger doesn’t bother me. I think it’s important, what journalists do. Exposing the truth that others would prefer to remain hidden. I just think…well, if you have the ability to do something, you have a responsibility to try. Don’t you?”_

_“I suppose so,” Barry heard his father reply as the door closed behind him._

* * *

Later that evening, Iris yawned as she let herself into her apartment, locking the front door behind her. It had been a long day, and she longed for nothing more than to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head, to shut out the world for a while. But even as she kicked off her shoes, she remembered that Barry was supposed to come over that evening, that he had something to discuss.

She wondered which door he’d come to, whether he’d come to her as Barry or as the Flash. Upon reflection, she turned towards her balcony, figuring she might as well open the door to invite him inside if he showed up there.

When she turned, however, she saw a figure standing in the shadows. It shouldn't have surprised her that he would have beaten her to the punch. She started to smile as she reached for the lock on the sliding glass door, ready to invite him in. But then the figure stepped forward, and she realized it wasn’t Barry at all.

Iris stumbled back, fumbling for the phone in her pocket, as the man in yellow started to vibrate his entire body. As brave as she was, she wasn't foolish enough to think she could take on the man in yellow by herself. But the phone slipped out of her fingers when he stepped through the closed and locked balcony door.

In a second, the subject of countless nightmares was standing in the middle of her living room, a few feet away from her. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his glowing red eyes. His voice reminded her of Barry, of the voice he’d put on when he was trying to hide his identity as the Flash, but it caused a shudder of terror to shoot down her spine.

“Good evening, Iris.”


	10. Chapter 10

Over the years, Iris had often imagined what she would do if she ever tracked down the man in yellow. She liked to think she would stare fearlessly into his eyes as she demanded answers. As she uncovered the reasons behind his obsession and demanded justice for her father. Alternatively, she imagined she would put up a fight, find a way to hurt him the way he had hurt her family.

The reality made her feel slightly ashamed. Surprised and terrified, Iris found herself unable to move. Unable to speak. She felt her legs start to tremble, nearly hyperventilating as she struggled to come to terms with the sight in front of her. Of course, she’d always believed her father told her the truth about the man in yellow. But he had always been more of a terrifying nightmare than a creature of flesh and blood to her. Now that he was in front of her, it was almost hard to believe he was real.

Even as he vibrated his face to obscure his features, she could make out the slight shadow of a smile. “You’re scared. Good. You should be.”

Anger did what fear could not. Finally, Iris reacted, throwing a punch towards his stomach, but her hand went through his body. He was vibrating his molecules so fast, he wasn’t entirely substantial. How could she fight something she couldn’t touch? She tried again, and again her fist went through his body. Her efforts were met with nothing but his mocking laughter.

Before she could say anything, he wrapped one hand around her neck and squeezed, lifting her off the floor. Tears came to her eyes as she clawed at his hand, trying to pull it away, but he was too strong for her. She was going to die, and she knew it.

But just when she was about to black out, she felt him shove her hard, effortlessly throwing her across the room. Her body was limp as she careened into her dining room table, sending her stack of papers flying. Her hand clipped the coffee mug left behind from that morning’s breakfast, sending it crashing to the ground. She crumpled to the floor on top of the broken glass, gratefully sucking air into her burning lungs.

Before she could collect herself – or come up with a plan – the man in yellow loomed over her. He chuckled as he bent down, and she palmed one of the broken shards on instinct as he lifted her to her feet.

Once more, she clawed at his hand, which had the same lack of effect. When he laughed at her efforts, however, she reached towards his face, swiping him across the cheek with the shard of glass hidden between her fingers. The cut wasn’t deep, but it took him by surprise. His grip around her neck loosened, and she gasped for air even as she watched in horror as the cut heal before her eyes.

The man in yellow seemed to take pleasure in her reaction, as he grabbed the glass out of her hand and tossed it aside. “I always did admire your gumption,” he told her mockingly.

Iris was tired of being scared. He wanted her to cower, to beg for her life. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Staring at him in defiance, she demanded, “Well? Go on. What are you waiting for?”

Even as the man in yellow’s grip tightened around her neck, there was a knock on the door. He froze, loosening his hold once more. He made a soft, thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Why don’t you invite Barry in and find out?”

Her eyes darted towards the door as a chill shot down her spine. How did her attacker know what was on the other side? What did he want from them both? Could he somehow have found out that Barry was the Flash? She didn’t know, but she had no doubt his life was in danger. She had to find a way to warn him.

Rallying strength she didn’t even know she had, she renewed the fight, alternating between throwing punches and scratching at his face, hand, and neck. She was hoping to catch him off guard, but it was pointless to try to surprise someone who could move faster than thought.

When she heard another knock on the door, she sucked in a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could, “Barry, run!”

It was only when the man in yellow lifted her off her feet and turned, carrying her toward the balcony, that she realized she’d fallen into his trap. He’d relaxed his hold around her neck because he wanted her to cry out to Barry. He’d wanted her to try to warn him.

Her panic increased when she heard Barry’s voice behind her. “Let her go!” he demanded, his voice filled with a rage that she had never heard before.

She clawed at the hand wrapped around her throat as the man in yellow glanced over her shoulder. Then he lowered her slightly until her toes could just barely touch the ground and relaxed his grip a little. Staring into her face, he said tauntingly, “Go ahead, Iris. Ask me the question that has haunted you for years.”

Though she didn’t want to show him any weakness, tears burned at the back of her eyes, and she couldn’t stop one from spilling over to slide down her cheek. “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a tortured whisper. “Why me?”

“Because I want you to understand. If you choose to get close to the Flash, this will be your fate.” He looked at Barry over her shoulder. “And it will be yours, Flash, to arrive just in time to watch her die.”

At that, he threw her limp body as hard as he could towards the balcony doors. Iris closed her eyes and waited for the sound of shattering glass and the pain that would come when the shards pierced and scraped her skin. Seconds later, however, she landed against Barry’s chest, and she felt his strong arms wrap tight around her. Her breath left her body in a whoosh as he put her gently back on her feet. But when he shifted like he was going to step away, to chase after the man in yellow, she grabbed onto his arm.

“No!” she blurted, her gaze darting around her apartment. When she realized that her attacker was gone, she let out a soft sob and sunk to her knees, still clutching onto his arm. “Don’t – don’t go,” she whispered, curling her legs against her chest. She didn’t want Barry to see her cry, so she buried her face in her knees. She couldn’t control her trembling, so she wrapped her arms over her head.

She felt Barry sink onto the ground beside her. Though she flinched when she felt his fingers gently graze her shoulder, she leaned towards him and let out an audible sob when he curled around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest. She tilted her head to press her cheek against the arm he curled around her knees.

“Iris…sweetheart…” he breathed into her ear, pressing a kiss against the top of her head and holding her tight as she cried.

She didn’t pull away, even when her tears dried. Afraid he would eventually leave her, she turned her head and murmured, “I – I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

She didn’t want to admit that she was scared to be in her apartment, but she was still relieved when he shifted to curl his arms under her body. “Hold on tight.” She’d barely curled her cheek against his neck and closed her eyes when she felt a brisk breeze. When she opened her eyes once more, she found herself in a cozy living room. Barry lowered himself gently onto a plush couch, pulling her legs across his lap.

He seemed to need to hold onto her as much as she felt the need to hold onto him. To find some measure of reassurance in her presence as he murmured, “It’s okay. You’re safe now, sweetheart. I won’t let you go.”


	11. Chapter 11

It seemed to take forever for Iris to stop trembling. Every time she closed her eyes, she could picture glowing red eyes, could feel a hand tightening around her neck, and she would try to curl up closer to Barry.

For his part, Barry just held her in silence, stroking his hand along the curve of her back in slow, comforting strokes. When she had finally calmed, he gently laid her aside and stood, heading into the kitchen to make her a pot of tea with honey to sooth her throat.

When he returned to the couch, he pulled her back into his arms without a word. In his embrace, she felt safe for the first time since the Man in Yellow had appeared on her balcony. As the hours passed, she let herself melt against him, finally closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

She awoke the next morning to find that she was alone on the couch, though her side was still warm from where Barry’s arm had wrapped around her all night. She heard some noises from the kitchen and sat up, scanning the room in search of her shoes. She saw them next to the door and raced to pull them on, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Iris was reaching for her purse when she heard Barry walk into the room. “Morning!” he said cheerfully. “I made some – hey, are you…you’re not leaving, are you?”

She froze, grimacing, and tried to school her expression before turning to face him. “Oh. Yeah. You know. I should…um…I should get back.”

He turned to put two plates down on the table nearby. “Get back? You’re heading home?”

She straightened, clutching her hands behind her back. “Oh…yeah. I mean, I can’t stay away forever.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to run off first thing.” She could see the uncertainty in his smile as he gestured to the table. “I made breakfast.” When she didn’t move, his smile fell, and a slight frown creased his brow. “Iris…what’s really going on?”

Unable to meet his eyes, she sighed and glanced away. “Look…I…I’ve been thinking. Maybe…maybe we should keep our distance from each other for a while.” Her words came out barely above a whisper, her throat still sore from the night before.

“You’re - you’re not scared of me, are you?” he asked, and she hated the undercurrent of hurt in his voice. “Because I have the same powers as…” he waved his hand. “You know.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just…” She let her voice trail off. How could she explain? All night, she’d dreamt of the Man in Yellow, hearing his words echo in her mind. _“I want you to understand. If you choose to get close to the Flash, this will be your fate. And it will be yours, Flash, to arrive just in time to watch her die.”_

How had he known that Barry was the Flash? And if his obsession with her was because of the Flash, how had he known that Barry would obtain super powers years before the particle accelerator explosion? None of it made sense.

“If this is about what the Man in Yellow said…Iris, I’m not scared.”

“Well, you should be!” she blurted. “I don’t have anything to lose, Barry, but you do. Your mom…your dad. He knows who you are! He knows you’re the Flash! If he meant what he said…if being close to me puts you in danger…or the people you love…”

“You don’t know that it would put my parents in danger,” he began to protest, stepping close to her.

She shook her head. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t scared of the Man in Yellow. She wanted to bravely demand that the two of them should dictate what their relationship should be, not someone like him. and said in a low voice, “He’ll have no problem hurting the people you love to get to you. He has before. I think he killed my father. How can I ask you take that chance?”

“You’re not asking me to do anything!”

“And how could I live with myself if something happened to them?” Tilting her face so he wouldn’t see her expression, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Barry. I know this isn’t what you want. But I…I just can’t take that chance.”

Grabbing her purse, she turned to go when she heard Barry’s low curse. “Damn it, Iris.” She felt his hand on her arm and looked over her shoulder. His face was inches from her own. Turning her gently, he cupped her face in his palm, murmuring, “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t push me away.”

Iris knew she should pull away. She should leave and not look behind her. But it was hard to remember what she should do when he was so close to her. Though she’d tried to deny her feelings for Barry, tried for years to forget him, when he’d held her in his arms the night before, it had all come back to her. So instead of doing what she knew she should, she gave into the urge to do what she’d wanted to do since the night they’d first met, a chance meeting between two strangers at a party. She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his.

* * *

Barry caught his breath at the feel of her lips against his. He froze, afraid that one wrong move would scare her away. He’d kissed her as the Flash, of course, but this was the first time he’d kissed her as himself, with no secrets between them. No, _she_ kissed _him_.

“Iris,” he breathed against her mouth. He felt his hands tremble as he stroked his fingers along the curve of her cheek, and a part of him wondered if he was dreaming. If so, he didn’t ever want to wake up. “Oh, Iris.”

Her mouth warm and hungry on his, Iris pressed her hands against his shoulders and pushed gently, maneuvering him back towards the bedroom. He stumbled, almost tripping over his feet, as he crossed the threshold, causing Iris to laugh. She gave his chest a hard shove and he fell back onto the bed, pulling her down on top of him.

She straddled his waist, but when she bent to capture his mouth in another kiss, however, he paused. “Iris, wait. Are you…are you sure?”

Lifting her weight onto her palms, she threw him a tremulous smile. Her voice was flirtatious as she asked, “Don’t you want me?”

Barry’s laugh was forced and breathless, as he tried to focus on anything other than how good it felt to have her on top of him. “Please believe me when I say I’ve never wanted _anyone_ the way I want you,” he admitted. “But not unless you’re sure.” She’d been scared the night before. He understood what that kind of fear, what it could do. But as much as he’d fantasized about having Iris in his arms, he didn’t think he’d be able to bear it if it was something she came to regret.

Iris hesitated. “You think I’m doing this because I’m scared?”

“Are you?”

She scraped her teeth against her lower lip, but she met his gaze unflinchingly. “I won't pretend I'm not scared,” she admitted softly. “It’s just…last night…every time I tried to hit him, he just…my hand just went through his body.” She curled her hands into fists against his chest, and he saw her cheeks heat with a shame that wasn’t hers to carry. “I used to imagine what I’d do if I ever met him, you know. I always thought…I’d be strong. But I was so…helpless. I wanted to scare him, and instead…” Her voice trailed off, and she lifted one hand to rub the bruises on her throat. “He almost broke me. I don’t – I was supposed to stop him, and I couldn’t – I couldn’t –”

She shook her head, unable to continue, and he pulled her down against his chest. Wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, he ran one hand down the gentle curve of her back. In an undertone, he murmured, “Honestly? I think you scare him. I think something about you scares him a lot.”

She snorted. “You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better,” she mumbled.

“I’m not lying.” Cupping two fingers under her chin, he gently exerted pressure until she tilted her head back and met his eyes. “Look at you, Iris. You’re all of five foot three inches tall. You have no superhuman powers. You can’t move faster than light or shoot lasers from your eyes. You can’t harness the power of the sun to blast him out of existence. You’re just…you. Why would he be so determined to frighten you off if something about you didn’t terrify the living hell out of him?”

Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she shook her head. “Maybe he’s not scared of me. Maybe he’s scared of you. After all, remember what he said? He wants to keep the two of us apart.” Unable to hold his gaze, she let hers drop to his chin as she whispered, “I don’t know how he knew, all those years ago, that you would one day become the Flash, but he had to know, didn’t he? That’s why he’s been after me all my life? Because he knew he would become the Flash. Do you think he was telling the truth about the rest of it? About…about the two of us? Do you think –”

He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead as he considered her question. It seemed impossible that the Man in Yellow could have known that Barry would one day become the Flash, but getting struck by lightning and waking up with super speed had taught Barry to believe in the impossible. “I don’t know. I don’t know if the Man in Yellow was telling the truth. I don’t know how he could have known I’d become the Flash one day. But I know – I _know_ – we are stronger together than we would be apart. I can’t bear the thought of you walking out of my life. Again.”

“What about your parents? I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to them because of me. And you’d never forgive me.”

He shook his head. “I’ve thought about whether I’m putting them in danger from the day I first discovered my powers. I’ll do everything I can to keep them safe.” He covered her hand with his, pressing it against his heart, as though it would help her feel the truth behind his words. “I’m not scared of losing them, Iris. I’m scared of losing you.”

Iris was silent for a long moment. Finally, shifting slightly, she brought her lips down to his, her kiss tentative and soft. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted. “But there’s something you should know. Like I said, I can’t pretend I’m not scared. But that’s not why I brought you in here. I brought you in here because I wanted to. So, what about you, Barry? What do you want? If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay…”

He felt his breath leave his body in a whoosh as he speared his hands into her hair, drawing her down to him. His mouth was hungry on hers as he covered her with his body. Pinning her under his weight. But he reminded himself to be gentle as he trailed kisses across the line of her jaw and down her neck. “Stay with me, Iris. Please. Please stay.” He wondered if she could hear the silent plea behind his words. _Stay with me tonight. Stay with me forever. Just stay._


End file.
